His Biggest Fan
by supermandy77
Summary: AU: She hasn't seen him in seventeen years, not since she was pre-law and he was Rick Rodgers. But Rick Castle in her interrogation room now is the least of her troubles. Entry for 2015 Castle Summer Hiatus Ficathon.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is an AU, so a couple things to keep in mind as this journey unfolds. First, there is no age difference between Castle and Beckett. Second, don't assume that because I'm using the case from the pilot that the year is 2009. It's present day.**

 **The first chapter is short, but it's the best place to break. Chapters should be a little longer from here on out.**

 **This story was inspired by a GIF set on Tumblr, which I will post a link to in the near future. Doing so now would kill the mystery of the plot.**

 **Last, but certainly not least, many thanks to Ally for the beta.**

The murder scene catches her off guard. Normally, this would be her kind of case-"Beckett-flavored," as the boys liked to call them. But the minute she sees the way the body is positioned, her blood runs cold.

She doesn't say anything, only slowly walks around the perimeter of the body while Lanie and the boys collect any information they can. She leans down, right next to where the sunflowers cover the victim's eyes.

"I've seen this before."

Her eyes shift to Ryan and Esposito. They're frozen, waiting for her to continue. "Rose petals on her body? Sunflowers on her eyes?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Beckett," Esposito tells her in frustration.

"Don't you guys read?" She's trying to play it cool, she really is. Kate is thankful that her team isn't pushing her about this, at least not very hard. " _Flowers for Your Grave_ , guys. This body is laid out just like a murder scene in a book."

"And you know this because…?" Ryan teases.

"Because I read the book, smartass."

Kate continues to examine the scene quietly while the boys speculate behind her. Even as she takes notes and gets information from Lanie, she can hear them trying to figure out who wrote the book and how they proceed from here, since they don't currently have any witnesses.

"Lucky for us, the author lives in the city. In fact, he's even having a book launch party tonight."

"You know too much about this, Beckett," Esposito says while Ryan smirks next to him. "Are you going to put the illiterates out of our misery, or just keep dropping clues to show your superiority?"

"Richard Castle. His name is Richard Castle."

Ryan speaks up first. "And I bet you know where this party is, too. Were you planning on going before we got called up on this one?"

"No," she says curtly, hoping they don't try to get any more information out of her right now. The more she thinks about it, the more certain she is that her whole life is about to be turned upside down. And if that's the case, Ryan, Esposito, and Lanie will know soon enough why she's so knowledgeable about the career of Richard Castle.

"You don't know where it is? Or you weren't planning on going?" Lanie butts in, eyeing Kate with a look that tells her that she's going to be grilled later on about this off-the-wall and totally surreal conversation at a crime scene.

"The book launch is at some rooftop bar on Broadway. I can't remember the name, but I'm sure we can narrow it down quickly. And no, I wasn't planning on going. Just because I read the guy's books doesn't mean I want to go have my chest signed by him."

"But do you want the honor of crashing the shindig and asking him to come to the precinct to answer some questions?"

The idea is certainly appealing. Of course she would, but she doesn't think that would be the way to go about seeing him. It's too...public.

"Actually, why don't you guys go pick him up. I need to check on something back at the precinct that might be related to this case. This might not be the first murder scene of his that's been copied."

Ryan and Espo nod as they turn and walk out of the building, their cell phones already against their ears as they try to figure out where they need to go to find their author.

Kate takes one last look at the scene, walking up behind Lanie supervising the movement of the body. "You'll give me a report once you have a chance to get her back to the morgue?"

"You know I will, Beckett."

Kate's almost to the door before Lanie calls back to her. She should have known better than to think that she could fool Lanie, of all people.

"Don't think I didn't notice that something's going on with you, Kate. We _will_ be talking later."

The detective chooses not to turn back, only waving her acknowledgment as she walks out of the victim's apartment on her way back to the precinct for what is sure to be a long night.

When Ryan and Espo get to the precinct with the author, they immediately put him in one of the interrogation rooms before finding their way to Beckett's desk, going on and on about the spectacle that was Richard Castle's book launch party.

"So he's in there?" she asks them, trying desperately to sound like she isn't so nervous. Even if they noticed though, they would completely miss the mark on her reasons.

"Yeah, Boss. Do we get to watch you interview your celebrity crush?" Ryan gets a fist bump from Espo for his comment, but Kate instead thrusts two files into their chests.

"Sorry, guys. I need you to start looking into any possible connection between Tisdale and this guy." She walks off without another word, her own copy of the file still in her hands, which is she trying desperately to keep from shaking.

Once outside the door, she has to take a deep breath. When she answered her phone tonight, she expected murder. She expected a long night. What she didn't expect was to see him again, and especially not in this environment.

Steeling herself for what is sure to be a confrontation she isn't looking forward to, she opens the door and walks into the room, happy for the short moment she has to gaze upon him again after all these years.

When the door closes, his eyes shoot up to hers, and she tries her best to look apologetic.

"Kate?"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** _Thank you to everyone for your follows/favorites/reviews._

 _And thanks to Ally for her beta and enthusiasm for this story._

The night just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

As if being ushered out of his launch party by a couple detectives wasn't odd enough, now he finds himself face to face with _her_ again. And despite the anger that bubbles up in his chest, he can't help but smile.

"Rick."

"Where are Archie and Jughead? I thought they had some questions for me. I thought that was why I was here."

"They-that is, we- _do_ have some questions for you."

"You? I thought you were a lawyer."

"That was the plan, but plans change. The murder that Detectives Ryan and Esposito brought you down here for? It's my case, too. I'm a homicide detective."

He's not sure what he should say, or if he should say anything at all. Here she is, Kate Beckett, almost seventeen years later. The last thing he should be is in awe of how amazing she looks. He should be angry. He _is_ angry.

"What happened to you?"

The words are out of his mouth before he realizes it, and he's not surprised when she doesn't answer, choosing instead to take the seat across the table from him while she bites her lower lip.

At least he knows she's not the only one thrown off by this meeting.

"Are they watching?" he asks, pointing to the two-way glass behind him.

"No, they're running down some leads for me."

The room is silent for a whole minute while she pretends to gather her information. But he knows her better than that. She's prepared, at least professionally. She might not have been prepared to see him again, but she's prepared when it comes to her job.

"Listen, Rick," she almost whispers as she finally makes eye contact with him. "I'm sure you have questions, and I'll answer them. But I need to focus on this case first and foremost. So, case first and then we can reminisce, okay?"

He chuckles a little at that. Reminisce? They haven't seen each other in seventeen years, and she wants to reminisce.

"I'd settle for an explanation."

"Or that. Just...after the case."

"Some things never change," he mutters under his breath, so he suspects she heard him by the way she takes a deep breath and plunges into the reason he's there in the first place.

She places a photo of a woman in front of him. "This is Allison Tisdale. Have you ever seen her before?"

He shakes his head, so she immediately puts another photo in front of him.

"She was found murdered earlier this evening. Look familiar?"

" _Flowers for Your Grave._ "

He's never seen one of his imaginary murder scenes in living color before. Hell, he's never even drawn them out to get a visual. They've been in his head, sure, but never this _real._ It's disturbing, even for him.

Before he can fully process everything she just showed him, she slides another couple photos across the table.

"What about this guy, Marvin Fisk? He's a small claims lawyer."

It it were anyone else, perhaps the two detectives who brought him here, he would have a snarky comment ready. But Kate knows him, and would see right past any kind of bad boy image he tried to project right now. So he just shakes his head again, having never seen the man, and she flips the top photo so that the other one is visible.

"Shit."

"This was two weeks ago. It's right out of _Hell Hath No Fury_."

Rick's head snaps up, surprised that she knows this. "You read that? But only hardcore Castle junkies read..." He trails off, not exactly sure what to say. She's read his books. Does that mean she's read them _all?_

Kate is focusing on the file again, refusing to make eye contact with him after this newest revelation. "Rick, that's not important right now. And anyway, how did you think I connected the two murders in the first place?"

"Sorry," he says quietly, now just as thankful as she probably is that no one is on the other side of the glass listening to their conversation. "I just…"

Whatever he was going to say is forgotten when her phone starts to vibrate on the table. She picks it up quickly, looking like she's contemplating whether or not to answer the call. But then she's standing up and apologizing. "I need to take this. Give me just a minute."

She doesn't leave the room, but walks over to the door as she speaks quietly into her phone. Whoever is on the other end of the line, she's familiar with them. Listening to her hushed voice, he wonders if Kate Beckett ever got married and had kids. However her life turned out, time has certainly been her friend. She's just...radiant. And yes, he's having a hard time seeing her again as he remembers how their time together ended, but he can't help thinking back to everything that happened before she disappeared from his life.

"...Two hours, sweetie. I'll call if something keeps me later...Love you, too."

She finishes the call and comes back to the table, once again adjusting the photos from the police file she brought in with her and adamantly avoiding eye contact with him. More than anything, he wants to ask her who "sweetie" is, but taking into consideration the way she's spoken to him so far this evening, he has a strong feeling she would shut him down immediately. If he remembers one thing about Kate, it's that she doesn't do anything she doesn't want to.

"Sorry about that," she finally says to him, though she doesn't offer any more information about her call. "Would you mind if we looked at your fan mail? There might be some kind of clue in there that would tell us who's staging murders like the ones in your books."

"I...yeah, I'll have it sent over tomorrow morning. Is that soon enough?"

"I don't see why not. The ME won't have the autopsy finished until then anyway." Kate stands up and walks toward the door, opening it for him as they walk out into the bullpen together.

"I'll call Gina tonight and ask her to put it together for me. I think I owe her an explanation for why I was carted out of my book launch party tonight."

"Yeah," Kate replies with a hint of a smile, "I hope the guys didn't make too big of a scene over it."

Rick shares the smile with her, knowing exactly what she means even though he only met the other two detectives for the first time this evening. "Don't worry about it. The party was boring by the time they got there anyway. To be honest, I was having more fun standing at the bar talking to my mother and Alexis."

They make it back to her desk, and he wishes he had something more to say. He has so many questions to ask her, so many things he wants to know about her since they last saw each other, but she very precisely told him to wait until after the case. He never thought he'd see her again, but now he's standing in front of her and desperately looking for a way to say goodnight that isn't terribly awkward.

She finally puts him out of his misery. "So you'll bring the fan mail by tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah, sure." He starts to walk away, only to turn back when an idea strikes him. "Hey, Kate? Do you think I could-I don't know-try to help out in some way? Consult on the case?"

"I...I don't think…" She wants so bad to flat out say "no." If it were anyone else, the words would come easily. He would drop off the fan mail tomorrow and leave her alone to solve the case. And once it was solved, she would call to let him know before finally giving him the explanation he asked for earlier. But unfortunately, that isn't how this is going to work.

"I'm asking nicely because it's you, Kate. Whoever this nutcase is, he's using my books as his own personal playground. Sure, it gets me a badge of honor among the other mystery writers, but it's still messed up." In a habit that should be long broken, he steps up close to her as he leans in with a smirk. "I'm friends with the mayor, you know? You can either voluntarily give me access to this case, or I can call Bob and have him tell your captain to let me in. Your choice."

"Our next step is to look through your mail. We can do that tomorrow."

"Well, until tomorrow then," he says as he turns around to leave, the night not at all turning out like he expected.

* * *

 **Twitter:** supermandy77

 **Tumblr:** supermandy1977


	3. Chapter 3

_As always, thanks to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed. And thanks to Ally, who puts up with my questions._

* * *

Kate isn't the only one surprised when Rick comes to the precinct flanked by two cops, each of them carrying two big boxes of fan mail in addition to the two Rick has in his hands. She expected the two he had, but not this.

Now, she gets to spend the day in the conference room with him helping him go through his fan mail in an attempt to find a possible serial killer. The nerves she already felt in his presence ratcheted up another three notches.

"Do you actually read through all this?" Esposito asks as the Rick and the cops place the boxed on the table in the conference room.

"Usually, but I'm a bit behind because of the new book and all. This is just from the last three months-everything I haven't read yet."

Esposito shakes his head and leaves the room just as Kate enters, closing the door behind her. She tosses him a pair of gloves, which he barely manages to catch.

"Put those on," she orders, pulling her own pair over her hands after she lays a legal pad and her cell phone on the table. She's trying so hard to be normal around him, to let her see that she turned out fine. But she isn't _fine_ , not with him here and everything she never told him hanging over her head.

"This is _my_ mail. Why do I have to wear gloves?"

"You know, for a mystery writer you sure do forget some of the essentials." She chuckles as he sits down in a chair across the table from her, begrudgingly sliding the gloves over his hands. "Any one of these letters could potentially become evidence. We don't want to contaminate it and possibly lose any DNA evidence that could lead us to the killer."

"Have you ever caught a killer from something this simple-a letter?"

"Not a letter specifically, no." Kate takes the first letter from the box next to her, carefully removing it from the envelope and unfolding it. She has the chance to read about two words before he's questioning her again.

"What's the most off the wall way you've caught a murderer?"

When she lifts her head and sees him across the table, his forearms are resting on it and he's leaning forward in anticipation of whatever story she might share with him. The sight makes her flash back to a previous life, one where her life was on a different path.

"Can we just get to work?" she asks, pulling herself out of her memories.

He doesn't respond to her, instead sitting back in his chair and pulling a letter from the top of the pile next to him.

Kate isn't sure how long they keep to themselves, each of them submerged in their own pile of his fan mail, looking for even the smallest clue. She finally allows herself to sneak a glance in his direction, only to see that he's doing the same, dropping a portion of the letter he's reading to look over the top of the paper.

"What?" she asks him in what she hopes comes off as exasperation.

"You still furrow your brow when you're thinking. It's cute. Always has been."

"Rick…"

"I know, I know. After the case."

She hates the dejected look he gets when he thinks that she's shutting him down. But she's not-not really. She's just trying to make her way through this minefield with as little damage as possible.

"No, I wasn't going to say that. I...I was just wondering why you're so interested in this case. And don't tell me it's because of the copy cat. I know better."

"Aw, come on, Kate. You disappear from my life and randomly reinsert yourself almost seventeen years later? As the police detective investigating murders that happen just like they do in my books? The universe is speaking."

"You and the universe. Some things never change," she says, her arms going up in frustration as she leans back in her chair.

"And some things do. Mainly you." He waits a beat before continuing. "What happened, Kate? How did you go from being pre-law at Stanford to being a homicide detective in Manhattan? We both know damn well this isn't where your life was headed."

The joking and playful banter that she remembered falls away immediately. The teasing glare leaves away her eyes, replaced by the beginning of tears. She's painfully aware that she's letting him see a part of herself that didn't exist years ago.

She doesn't have a chance to respond before the whole situation explodes.

"Mom, Uncle Roy said you were in here. Can I-oh, sorry. I didn't know you were with someone."

Her eyes immediately dart to Rick's, noticing how he drops the paper in his hands into his lap as his face goes almost completely slack in response to their unexpected visitor.

"Oh, hey Jo. It's no problem. This is Richard Castle," she says, hoping that her voice doesn't betray the nervousness she feels. "He's helping out with the case."

"As in, your favorite author _Richard Castle?_ "

She loves her daughter-she really does-but right now Kate wishes Jo wouldn't have shared that particular piece of information. At least not at this moment in time. She gives her daughter a warning glare, then switches her attention back to Rick, trying to read his reaction to this whole scenario. Despite a slight grin, which is probably in response to Jo's outburst of knowledge, she can't read his reaction to the whole situation.

"What did you need, Jo?" Kate asks, completely ignoring her daughter's question.

"Kaitlyn's parents have an extra ticket to see _The Lion King_ tonight. Can I go?"

"It's a school night-"

"No, it's not. Parent/Teacher conferences are tomorrow, remember?"

Kate does her best to keep her attention on Jo, as opposed to checking back to see what kind of reaction Rick is having to their exchange. It's bad enough that she knows he's watching the whole conversation with interest, and no doubt coming up with all kinds of scenarios in his head.

"In that case, I guess it's fine. Do you need any money or anything?"

"No, Mom. I'm good. Thanks," she says, leaning in to give Kate a kiss as he heads to the door. Before she leaves, she turns around and smiles, this time directing her attention to the author. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Castle."

He smiles and waves as the girl leaves the room, but doesn't say anything. Kate turns her attention to him once she hears the ding of the elevator in the bullpen, signaling her daughter's departure from the precinct.

"Of all the things you could have told me, of all the reasons you could have given, this is the last one I would have guessed, Kate."

Until now, the door to the conference room has been open. But now, she senses that they need to address this situation sooner rather than later. In retrospect, she realizes it was silly to think that she could even attempt to postpone this conversation for however long the case took to solve.

Once she's returned to her chair, she looks at him and tries to gauge what's running through his head right now. She used to be able to read his moods and almost sense what was running through his mind. They were so in sync that their friends found it creepy. Seventeen years later though, she has no clue what's going on in his mind.

"So there was someone else? If that was the case, why didn't you just tell me? It would have hurt, but I'm a big boy. I would have preferred knowing that you loved someone else as opposed to the complete radio silence I got."

Kate doesn't know how to respond to him, and she certainly doesn't know if there's anything she can say to make up for what she did to him. He doesn't look at all like the millionaire playboy he's projected to be in the gossip papers. She knows better, of course. She knows what's in his heart, knows how much he loves his family and does everything he can to protect them.

"There was no one else, Rick."

He starts to respond, but cuts himself off mid-word when her words catch up with him. Kate forces herself to keep eye contact with him, doing her best to keep herself from breaking down in front of him right now. Despite the fact that she's giving him this right now, she's still very aware of their location and how this is definitely not the time or place to have this conversation in its entirety.

"Does she know?"

His question surprises her, though she's happy she doesn't have to spell it out for him.

"No." It's a simple answer, but the only one she's willing to give him right now.

"That's it? Just 'no'?"

"I'm not going to get into this with you right now," she says in frustration, standing up to walk across the room to sit down next to him. "You deserve a full explanation, and I promise that you will get one. But I'm not going to do it here, and certainly not now. Besides the fact that I have a couple murders to solve, I'm in a little bit of shock right now."

"Don't talk to me about shock. I just found out that I have another daughter. On accident." He stands up and moves away from her, his hands combing through his hair. "I don't know if I can be here right now."

Kate stands up, ready to do her best groveling, when Esposito busts through the door and interrupts them. "Beckett, we've got another one."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Again, thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed this story. Your words of encouragement are very helpful._

 _Some people seem to be upset or disappointed that Kate (and Castle's) child is a girl, and that her name is Jo. Yes, it is common for a Caskett child to be female. As far as the name goes, the reason behind it will become apparent as the story unfolds. The idea for this story is from a GIF set by veraflynns on Tumblr. It has always been my intention to give her credit and share the address, but I wanted to wait until the revealing chapter was posted._

 _katecastle. co. vu/ post / 94374978325 / castle-beckett-appreciation-week-day_

 _(take out spaces for link to work)_

* * *

They ride in silence to the scene. As expected, the victim is posed just like a character in his books. The whole time they're there, they only speak to each other when it's required. On their way out, he finally speaks up.

"None of this makes sense."

"It doesn't have to anymore. That's three murders, Castle. Serial murders don't need motive."

"I know that. Mystery writer, remember?" he reminds her, pointing to himself. "And 'Castle'? What did I do to warrant you calling me by my last name?"

"Sorry. It's a cop thing. I did it out of habit, I guess."

"Anyway, I meant the details. If this guy is copying my books, wouldn't he want to get the details right?"

"Yeah, probably."

"So what's next?'

"Ryan and Esposito are working with CSU over at the pool. But we're still low on leads because of the random nature of the murders. Other than going through this newest victim's financials and retracing her last hours, I think we need to go back to looking through your mail."

A hint of a smile crosses his face from the passenger seat of the car, and she is thankful that they seem to have reached some kind of tentative agreement. At least he isn't asking her to drop him off at home. She knows she has a lot to make up for, and they have much to discuss, but at least he seems to have dropped the subject in favor of solving this case. Everything else can wait. It's been seventeen years. What's a few more days?

* * *

Kate' s heart sinks when Harrison Tisdale is holding a gun to Castle's head and threatening his life. But she's angry, too, that Castle didn't follow her instructions and stay in the car. She doesn't even want to know why his shoe is off and currently in a pile of trash.

Tisdale continues to threaten Castle, but then Castle elbows the killer in the face and disarms him. Once Kate has the guy handcuffed, she pushes Castle against the wall.

"What the hell were you thinking? You could have been killed?"

"Relax, the safety was on the whole time." He laughs, but she doesn't share his excitement.

The thought crosses her mind at how close she could have been to losing him just when he returned to her life. She has no idea what the future holds for them, but she knows that she can no longer deny her daughter the chance to know him, or for him to know her.

Uniforms show up within a few minutes to take their murderer back to the precinct for booking. She catches Castle digging his shoe out of the trash in the alley out of the corner of her eye and can't hold in the giggle that escapes.

"You think it's funny, Detective, but I honestly don't know what this is on my shoe," he says when she comes up to him after the uniform cops leave.

"Detective?"

"That's what you are, isn't it? And anyway, you decided to start calling me by my last name yesterday."

"Touché."

She points them in direction of her Crown Vic, and they walk out of the alley in silence. When they reach the street, she knows that she needs to start the conversation she promised him once the case was over. But doing so makes all of this real. It signals a return of Rick Rodgers-Castle-to her life, and she knows deep down that this time his presence is permanent.

"I don't know how to do this."

"I don't expect you to, Kate. If you did, we'd be having a completely different and possibly uglier conversation."

"Why are so being so understanding?" she asks, not sure why he's so at ease right now that he's able to crack jokes about their predicament.

"Don't mistake, I'm still _very_ angry. But I like to think that I know you well enough to know that you'll honor the agreement you made in the interrogation room."

"I will. I just...like I said, I don't know how to do this. It's not just about you and me. It's about-"

"Jo, right? Her name's Jo?"

"Yeah…" she says while she notices all the people milling around the crime scene. "Listen, I have some paperwork to do back at the precinct, but that should only take an hour. Are you able to grab dinner once I'm done?"

Castle nods while doing a horrible job of hiding a smile before they both get in her car and go back to the precinct.

The car ride is silent. But this time, the silence is full of anticipation instead of anger.

* * *

A couple hours later, tucked away in a corner booth at Remy's, they find themselves devoid of words to start either one of the conversations they need to have. To Rick, it's obvious which one is more important. He just has no idea how to broach the subject.

"So, just to be clear, Jo's…"

"She's your daughter, Rick."

"And you're absolutely sure about that?" He regrets the words the moment they come out of his mouth. This is _not_ the way to start the conversation.

"I already told you. There was no one else. I wasn't lying to you." Her words are biting, and the bite hurts. Kate sits back and takes a deep breath, and her next words are calmer, softer. "I never lied to you."

"No, but you did fail to tell me a couple fairly important pieces of information. Lies of omission are still lies, Kate. You should know that."

"I know. You make it sound like I'm proud of my actions."

"I don't think that. I'm just trying to understand them. The last time I saw you-before a couple days ago-was at LaGuardia after Christmas. You were supposed to come back to Stanford just a couple days after me. But I didn't even get a phone call, Kate. It was like you disappeared off the face of the earth."

* * *

" _I wish you could stay a couple more days," Kate told him, her arms wrapped tightly around him as they waited for his flight to be called for boarding._

" _Me, too, but I think your parents are probably sick of me. And I'm sure they'd like to spend some time with you-just you-before school starts again," he said, kissing her forehead._

" _They like you."_

" _No, your mom likes me. You dad, on the other hand…"_

" _He's like that with all my boyfriends."_

"All?"

" _What? You don't think that you're my first boyfriend, do you?"_

" _No, it's just that you make it sound like there have been so many before me."_

" _Oh, Babe," she laughs, resting her head on his shoulder. "Does it really matter? And I seem to remember hearing about your previous exploits on numerous occasions."_

" _But-that's-I-"_

" _Do you realize how cute you are when you're all flustered like that?"_

" _Do_ you _realize how sickeningly sweet we're being right now?"_

 _They burst into a fit of laughter that extends no further than their little bubble, despite being in the middle of LaGuardia just a few days after New Year's. The terminal is a flurry of activity all around them, business people and airport employees blending together with scenes that look similar to that of Rick and Kate._

 _The silence they find in the hustle and bustle around them is short-lived, the woman on the intercom calling the flight that will send Rick back to Stanford for the last semester of their freshman year._

 _Kate walks with him as far as she can, her fingers intertwined with his until they reach the gate._

" _You'll give me a call when you get in?" she asks as she messes with the buttons on his jacket._

" _You do realize it's going to be after midnight here, right?"_

" _I'll stay by the phone so I won't wake my parents."_

 _Rick smiles and pulls her in close, his lips brushing hers as his flight is called once again. "I better go. You're coming back Sunday, right?"_

" _Mom and Dad want to have a family dinner tomorrow. Mom mentioned going into the office for a while during the day, so we'll meet her there. And then I'm on a flight back Sunday morning."_

" _I'll miss you."_

" _Two days, Rick. That's all it is."_

" _Still...feels like a lifetime."_

" _You'll survive." She gives him a quick kiss and slaps him as he walks away. "Love you."_

 _He keeps walking, afraid that if he turns around he might never make it onto the plane. He waves instead, his voice thundering through the terminal as he disappears from sight. "Love you, too."_


	5. Chapter 5

_Once again, thank you to everyone who has followed/favorited/reviewed thus far. And also, a big thank you to Ally for giving this a once over._

* * *

"Not even a phone call, Kate."

She hangs her head in shame, knowing that he's absolutely right. And even if she spent the rest of her life apologizing and trying to make it up to him, she doesn't think it would ever be enough.

"Mom was killed, Rick." The words still hurt when she speaks them, even after all these years. Yet as much as they hurt, they still don't excuse her actions-or lack thereof-every day since.

"When?"

"The day after you left. Stabbed in the street on her way to meet us for dinner."

"Kate, I-"

"No." She stops him, her hand covering his on the table before she has a chance to think better of it. "Mom's death hit me hard, but it was no excuse to cut you out like I did, especially after I found out I was pregnant."

"When did you find out?" He doesn't retreat from her grasp, but squeezes her hand gently to let her know that he's willing to listen.

"About a month later. I took a year off while I was pregnant and to help Dad, then I transferred to NYU and changed my major to criminal justice."

"Kate, you know I would have helped, right? I would have helped in any way I could."

"I know that."

"No, I don't think you do. If you did-if you really believed I wouldn't have run-then you would have called me." He withdraws his hand from her grasp and leans back on the bench as he runs his hands through his hair.

"I was scared. I buried my mom, found out I was pregnant, and had to fight to keep my dad from finding solace in the bottle-all within a month's time. I was kind of overwhelmed."

"I get that. But for seventeen years? Kate, I've been back in the city for about thirteen of those. And never once did it occur to you to give me a call and tell me that we have a daughter?"

He has a point. She wanted to call him so many times, and especially every time Jo hit some kind of developmental milestone. Every time her little girl smiled, her blue eyes bright and mouth turned up the same way his did, she wanted to call him.

"I want to meet her."

His words shock her, more so in his timing than his intention. She knew that once he knew of Jo's existence, he would want to be involved in her life. She just didn't expect his words to be so abrupt.

"You _have_ met her."

"No, I want you to introduce me to her as her father. Yesterday I met her as 'Richard Castle, famous mystery writer.'"

She nods immediately, not wanting him to think that she's against the idea. She's known from the start that she handled the situation poorly, and this is the only way she knows to start making up to him everything he's missed because she was too scared.

"All I ask is that you give me a couple days to tell her. She doesn't-I mean, I've never told her anything about her father."

"Anything? Now, I _know_ that's a lie. She knows I'm your favorite author." He's smirking at her, giving her a hard time, and it lifts the weight off her heart just enough for her to smile back.

"She's going to think I'm crazy if I get home tonight and declare that you're her father. You might want to check in and make sure she didn't have me committed to an institution."

"Maybe start with something other than 'my favorite author is your father.'"

* * *

Kate opens the door to the sound of her daughter groaning loudly, followed by a few choice swear words as a pencil flies across the dining room and lands on the couch.

"Johanna Beckett, watch your temper."

Jo's head whips toward the door upon her mother's entrance, a reluctant "sorry" on her lips.

Kate walks into the dining room and sees the mess coated across it-various printed pages, pictures, and what she recognizes as a school-issued computer that sits next to Jo's own personal laptop.

"Ah, that explains it. Deadline week." She pulls up a chair next to her daughter, immediately seeing the email that has Jo running her hands through her long hair in frustration.

"We go through this every month, yet I still hold out hope that one day everyone will get their shit in on time. Hell, I think I would be satisfied if we could make it through a month when I don't get one of these last minute emails that changes the way the whole page is laid out."

Kate looks at Jo's screen and sure enough sees an apologetic email from a staff writer who won't be able to get her article in on time to make the issue. "How bad is the damage?"

She listens intently as Jo launches into an explanation of columns and headlines and other journalistic terms she only has a general understanding of, and only because her daughter launched herself into it once she started high school. Kate had been wary of it at first, but she couldn't say anything without opening the father discussion at the time.

And yet, here she was now, doing the exact thing she wanted to avoid a couple years ago.

"Mom, you're spacing out. You solved the case, right?"

"Yeah, yeah we did."

"So I guess that means you can't ogle Mr. Castle anymore, huh?" Jo laughs, getting a kick out of her mother's embarrassment earlier in the day.

"Actually, I got his number."

"You didn't!"

"I did," she replies matter-of-factly, not showing any of the excitement that would normally come with scoring her favorite author's phone number.

"Then why aren't you all giddy and gushing about how wonderful he is?"

Kate stands up and walks over to the cupboard, pulling out a wine glass and pouring herself the drink she knows she is going to need to get through this conversation. While her shaking hand pours the wine into her glass, she does her best to steady herself for the reaction that might be ahead of her.

"I've met him before, Jo. Before this case, I mean."

"Wait a second," Jo replies, turning in her seat and giving Kate her full attention. "You mean to tell me that you've met Richard Castle before but never mentioned it?"

"We went to school together."

Kate doesn't have the words to come out and say what needs to be said. She knows she's being a coward, but she's hoping that Jo will help her navigate them through this whole conversation piece by piece.

"I didn't know he went to NYU."

"He didn't," Kate says, taking a deep breath and walking back over to the table to take a seat next to her daughter. "We went to Stanford together."

Jo doesn't respond, but Kate can see her mind working and trying to decipher the big puzzle. She's told Jo about her short time at Stanford-on multiple occasions-and never once has she mentioned Rick Castle's name.

"Just...how _well_ did you know him?"

And there it is, the question that will bring everything to light. Jo asks the question that makes her a curious teenage girl, a good reporter, and-in different ways-just like her parents. And ultimately, it's the question that is going to test the relationship Kate has with her daughter.

"We dated pretty much the whole time I was there."

Kate doesn't hold back anymore, just says the words without preamble, and Jo walks off without a word. No yelling, swearing, or throwing of writing utensils. She just walks off, crossing the living room down the hallway and into her bedroom, the door closing with a definitive thud.

Alone in the dining room, wine glass in her hand and knees against her chest in a chair, Kate decides to wait it out and see if Jo decides she wants the whole story. She can't imagine what is going through her daughter's head right now. The worst part is that Kate hasn't even told her straight up that Rick is her father-that was a connection that Jo made for herself. Jo is right, just as Rick was when he made the same connection a yesterday, but Kate still feels the need to explain.

Determined to make things right as much as she can in one night, Kate walks to the sink and dumps the wine in her glass down the sink, putting so much force behind it that a small amount splashes over the side. She doesn't even stop to clean it up, afraid that she'll lose her resolution if she waits any longer.

When she turns around, Jo is standing in the doorway between the living room and the dining room, looking significantly calmer than before.

"Richard Castle is my father, isn't he?"

"He is, yes." She doesn't try to explain any further, deciding to let Jo ask her own questions now that the main one-the most important one-has been answered.

"Is this-Mom, are we mad at him? Because if you're mad, then I'm mad, too." Jo's voice rises as she gets riled up at the idea that Richard Castle left a pregnant Kate Beckett all alone with no support. But before Kate can speak up and set the record straight, Jo launches into a full out tirade. "How can he do that? Mom, you've done the best you could to provide for me, but I know it's always been a struggle. Grandpa was nice to have around, but damn it, Mom! Why didn't you tell me this when I was at the precinct?"

"Jo, sit down," Kate replies in the softest voice she can conjure at the moment.

"No. He can't just waltz into our lives without a word and expect us to-"

"Johanna Beckett, I said _sit down_." Kate points her finger toward the couch for emphasis, and Jo wastes no time following her directions. She follows suit, sitting on the edge and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. When she speaks again, her voice is much calmer. "Don't be mad at him. I'm not."

"What are you not telling me here, Mom? Because right now I'm beyond confused. Why am I not supposed to be mad at the guy who left you to raise a child on your own?"

"He didn't know until two days ago. We can't be mad at him because he didn't know."

Kate waits for Jo to turn her ire toward her, but it doesn't happen. Her daughter, who has always seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to the hardships that came with balancing a career and being a single parent, seems to understand it all without an explanation.

"How did he take it?" Jo asks, the anger finally leaving her in exchange for curiosity.

Kate can work with this, even though she knows going down this road will mean divulging more information about her past than she's ever shared with her daughter. But if Jo is going to meet her father and get to know him, she deserves to know all the factors that were in play.

"He was angry, and rightfully so. I didn't make good decisions when it came to him. And I cheated him out of sixteen years of knowing you."

"And yet you devoured his books on a regular basis, so I know you didn't shut him out because you hated his guts."

"No," Kate says with a laugh, "that was never the issue."

Jo gets quiet again, but Kate doesn't blame her. This is a bombshell, and certainly not one she probably expected when she came home from school today. Her little girl is taking everything remarkably well, considering the circumstances, but Kate wonders how long it will be until she starts to vent her anger toward her mother for holding this information from her for this long.

"He wants to meet you," Kate finally tells Jo, her daughter's expression changing from indifference to shock upon her mother's words.

"I met him yesterday at the precinct."

"No, that was-"

"Me embarrassing you. Turns out, the joke was on me. You were embarrassed for a completely different reason." And there it is, her daughter's sharp brand of sarcasm, one she unfortunately taught her daughter by example at an early age.

"I mean, he wants to meet _his daughter._ " Her mind flashes back to earlier today, when Rick did almost the exact same thing while having a similar conversation.

"And how do you feel about that?"

"Why are you asking me? There's obviously a reason you didn't tell him about me."

"I'm asking because…" Kate waits a beat, collecting her thoughts. "Because ultimately it's your decision. And the reason you haven't known about him until now is more about who I'm _not_ , as opposed to who he _is._ "

"But he's…" Jo starts, and though she doesn't say it out loud, Kate knows what she's going to say-that he's a playboy, a womanizer, a jackass, and a number of other personality traits that have been posted all over Page Six over years.

"None of the things you were about to say."

Jo regards her curiously after that comment. "You're really okay with this, aren't you?"

"As long as you are. I can have him over for dinner some night, and we can just play it by ear."

Jo nods, standing up and walking back over to the dining room table to continue working on the newspaper. Once she returns to the table, her hand on the back of the chair, she turns around and gains Kate's attention once again.

"Mom? Had it not been for this case, would you have ever told me?"

"I don't know," Kate tells her, deciding that honesty is the best way to go at this point. She's lied and evaded the truth long enough. "I'd like to be able to tell you that I would have, but it had been just the two of us for so long. Had we not caught this case, I think it's safe to say I may have just let it go."

Kate knows it's not the answer Jo wants to hear by the way she nods and turns back to the table without a comment of her own. It's not even the answer Kate wants to give, because it just means that she's still the scared person she was as a 19-year-old girl.


	6. Chapter 6

_Thank you to everyone for your favorites/follows/reviews. Some people have been very critical of Kate's decisions. Please understand that writing her a certain way doesn't mean that I agree with her actions. "I'm sorry" doesn't even begin to cover what she's done to Rick, or Jo for that matter. She can't change the past or her decisions. Kate will have to live with the consequences of her actions._

 _Also, a big thank you to Ally for the beta and putting up with my odd story revelations._

* * *

Kate is in the middle of paperwork the next day when Castle texts her: _Coffee break?_

She texts back her affirmative answer quickly, grabbing her coat and purse after finishing her last form. Esposito and Ryan, earning their titles as the Homicide gossip kings, don't miss the way she moves toward the elevator with a smile that betrays the fear she feels at Castle re-entering her life.

"Hot date, Beckett? And in the middle of the day?" Javi throws out to her, just short of passing for nonchalant.

"Not that it's any of your business, Espo, but I'm just taking a break to meet Castle for coffee."

"Wait, Castle?" Ryan joins in, dropping the paper he was reading and stopping her progression toward the elevator. Damn, she should know better than to feed the dogs.

"Yes, Castle. Is there something wrong with that?"

"You tell me, Beckett. Is there some reason for us to be concerned that you seem to be spending so much time with Writer Boy, even though the case is over?"

"It's _coffee_ , Espo," she replies, playfully shoving him out of the way. "That's all."

She doesn't doubt that the boys continue to discuss her coffee "date" with Castle long after she's gone, but she's not about to give them more to talk about by telling her the real reason they're meeting for coffee.

Rick waves to her as soon as she enters the coffee house five minutes later. When she reaches the table he's procured for them, he slides a cup in her direction.

"Am I going to regret this?" she asks, realizing the double meaning only after the words are out of her mouth.

"I think I can definitively say 'no' to both of your possible meanings."

She sits down and brings the cup to her lips, her eyes falling closed as the drink warms her and the moan leaves her before she can stop it. His soft laughter from across the table reminds her of her surroundings.

"You remembered," she says thankfully, both hands caressing the warmth of the cup as she inhales the the mixture of coffee and vanilla.

"I have a long memory," he tells her, his eyes leveling with hers. The smile that had taken over her face upon seeing he remembered her favorite drink leaves immediately, and she is again hit with the ramifications of the decision she made without him.

"I-"

"Don't," he interrupts, his hand moving across the table. "Can we just skip over the constant apologies? I'm sorry, you're sorry, we're all fucking sorry." His voice rises above what is socially acceptable, and he has to apologize to a couple old ladies who stare him down for his language.

The moment breaks the tension between them, and they both hide a laugh through their respective drinks.

"You were saying?" Kate asks, still holding back her laughter.

"I just...I think we should focus on now, instead of rehashing everything we did wrong when we were teenagers. We can't change it now, Kate."

"Doesn't make what I did right."

"No, but you're doing what you can to fix it now. That's what counts."

Kate looks away from him, playing with the hem of her sweater. God, she's missed him. Even with his childish ways, he was still a constant source of encouragement for her, especially when she was homesick and missing New York.

"I told Jo about you last night," she tells him, her eyes still downcast. She doesn't feel like she should allow herself to see his initial reaction to the information. Because as much as he remembers about her, she remembers just as much. Rick Rodgers wears his heart on his sleeve, and just because he's changed his name, she doesn't suspect this part of him has changed to the point that he can hide how pleased he probably is at the idea of finally meeting his daughter after all this time. "Can you come over for dinner tomorrow night?"

"She doesn't think I'm an asshole deadbeat dad for not being around all these years?"

His words give her reason to make eye contact with him again, and she sees the worry there-that she would not correct their daughter's assumptions that he left them high and dry upon hearing that Kate was pregnant.

"The idea was certainly there, but I set her straight before her wild theories got out of hand."

"I like her already," he says with a laugh, and she can see that he's itching to know everything about their daughter.

"She's actually a lot like you, crazy theories included."

"Is this where we launch into a debate over nature versus nurture?"

"No," she says with a glare, "it's simply an observation. She's a writer, you know."

"Of course she is."

"She sticks to the facts, though, unlike her father."

"Hey, I put in my time as a journalist in college," he reminds her, jabbing the table with his index finger for emphasis.

"You wrote the _entertainment gossip_ column, Rick. It's hardly the same."

"So...dinner tomorrow night?"

If it were anyone else, she would think that he was trying to change the subject. But at his heart, Rick has always been out for the approval of others, and she thinks he's already trying to win Jo's approval by being serious about the situation.

"Yeah, if that works for you. I don't want to keep you from Alexis or-"

"I haven't told Alexis yet," he interrupts, like it's a fact he has to tell her at that very second. "She has a school dance that night, though. I can come over for dinner."

"Rick, you know you have to tell her, right? Jo is her older sister, after all." She sounds hypocritical, saying such things to him. But he doesn't call her out on it, even though she thinks he's considering it by the way his face scrunches up.

"I know that, but I was hoping that I could meet her properly first. That, and I don't know how I could possibly pull off the 'oh by the way, Alexis, you have an older sister' bit without sounding like a total man whore."

"I doubt she would think that."

"I don't know. The papers-mostly fed information by Black Pawn and my agent-have portrayed me as the millionaire playboy. And as much as I've tried to shelter Alexis from that, she's a smart girl. That, and teenagers are horrid people who don't have filters."

"Unless you've had a complete personality transplant, you're far from a man whore, Rick."

"And you're far from one to tell me how I should tell my daughter-the one I knew about and have raised on my own since she was three-about the older sister she didn't know existed."

And there it is. The jab she's been waiting for ever since they started the conversation. She can't, however, deny him the right to make these comments. She's more than earned any anger Rick has toward her.

"I deserved that."

"Yes, but...whatever this is, however this turns out, can we at least not promise to do this in front of Jo-or Alexis, for that matter?"

Kate nods adamantly, understanding how everyone of their lives are going to change drastically in the coming months. She's not selfish enough to think that she and Jo are the only ones who will be affected by this.

She knows she's completely to blame for the situation. Yes, everything-her mother's death, her father's struggle with the bottle, and her pregnancy-presented itself within a few weeks of each other, but there was nothing that stopped her from calling Rick and telling him what had happened.

Seeing him now, all these years later, she's finally realizing the depth of the hurt she put him through. She rationalized her decision to not tell him about the baby by telling herself that he would see it as a tactic to tie him up into a relationship for the long term. It wasn't about money then-it couldn't have been. He hadn't even published his first novel at the time.

The longer Kate kept quiet about the identity of Jo's father, the easier it became to keep the status quo. Why upset the apple cart by making a proclamation that he'd fathered her child, especially once he was writing full-time and making a very comfortable living doing so?

"We're going to do a fair amount of arguing, aren't we?"

He laughs at her question, a sardonic sound escaping him. "You have to ask? Of course we will." He stops for a moment, taking the time to school his features before he continues. "But listen, I don't want you to think that I'm going to come in and try to undermine your parenting. I'll follow your lead."

"I'm not worried about that."

"But you're still worried about _something_ , Kate. I can tell by the way your brow is furrowed."

"Is there any chance-that is, I don't suppose we can be friends."

She doesn't expect the laugh he answers her question with. "What is it with these questions? Kate, I _hope_ we're friends. Despite everything that's happened, and everything that is bound to happen in the future, I think we can manage to be friends. At the very least."

He adds the last part as an afterthought, and she has to fight the urge to hope they could get back to being anything close to what they were to each other seventeen years ago. Friends is all she dares to hope for right now.

* * *

Rick's fist freezes in mid-air, right before it reaches the door of Kate's apartment. He's played it cool in front of Kate about meeting Jo, but the truth is that he's scared. What if she doesn't like him? What if she decides she doesn't want anything to do with him? And...what exactly has Kate told Jo about him?

The last week has been surreal, beginning with the guy who was copy-catting the murders in his books. Normally, that alone would be enough. But seeing Kate again, and subsequently learning that they had a daughter together, probably ranks first on his list of weirdest weeks ever.

The door opens, and Kate is there, smirking at him for what he's sure are tell-tale signs that he's nervous. He's adjusting his jacket, carefully running his hands through his hair, and making sure that the flowers he's holding are absolutely perfect.

"Are you going to stay out here all night?"

"I was going to knock...eventually."

"When? College graduation?"

"Not cool." He warns her, deciding that her comment was not meant to rub their situation in his face, but to break the tension and get him to come inside her apartment. They agreed not to argue about it around their daughters, and he plans to uphold his end of the bargain.

"Sorry," she tells him as she opens the door wide and allows him to enter. "Jo should be out in a minute. She was Skyping with another editor about the next issue."

"It smells amazing in here," he says, searching for some kind of conversation starter. They're both nervous, and he doesn't expect the nervousness to go away anytime soon, but he's going to at least try.

"It's-"

"Italian meatloaf," Jo says, interrupting her mother as she enters the dining room. "Mom, didn't you say it was one of Grandma's specialities?"

"Yeah."

He doesn't know if Kate says anything more, and he feels bad about that, but seeing Jo-his daughter-has stolen all of his attention. He saw her last week when she came into the precinct, but she was so surprised and shell-shocked at the time that by the time he realized her importance to him, she was already out the door.

Her hair is long and wavy like Kate's, but she has his eyes. And she's tall like Kate (though Jo can probably thank both of them for that), but curvier than her mother. Her facial features are very similar to Kate's, and he thinks that must have made it easier when she was younger for people to undeniably see that she was Kate's daughter and not raise questions about the girl's absentee father.

That thought alone makes him stumble forward and awkwardly extend his hand to Jo, not wanting his mind to venture down the road of resentment and anger toward Kate for hiding Jo from him for all these years.

Rick still hasn't been able to find any words, but for that matter, neither has Jo. She looks just as nervous as he feels, and he finds that he's cataloguing every movement and facial expression-the way she moves so he can later spend hours deciding which of her traits he got from Kate and which she got from him.

"Rick," Kate says as she steps between them, "allow me to introduce you to Johanna Alexandra Beckett- _our_ daughter."

* * *

 **Twitter:** supermandy77

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	7. Chapter 7

_Thanks to Ally for giving this a once-over, and to Jo for the pretty new cover art!_

* * *

 **Previously:**

" _Rick," Kate says as she steps between them, "allow me to introduce you to Johanna Alexandra Beckett-our daughter."_

* * *

His head snaps to Kate in shock, his hand still in Jo's. He opens his mouth, a million words flooding his mind, but he can't settle on anything. Kate seems to register the importance, and she simply nods to him, her eyes falling to the floor as her cheeks flush.

"Uh, I hate to break up the moment here, but did I miss something?"

Jo's slightly annoyed voice brings his attention back to her, and he takes back his hand, muttering a _sorry_ for the sweaty and awkward handshake.

"Thanks," she says again, shaking her hand in the air and wiping it down her pant leg. "Seriously though, what did I miss?" She asks again, her eyes going back and forth between him and Kate.

"Uh...I…"

"I called you _our daughter_ ," Kate says, saving him from yet another stumbling response. He's appreciative, but at the same time annoyed for her decision to not tell Jo the truth. He makes a mental note to confront her about it-later.

The three of them are quite the site, standing in between the living room and the dining room, trying to navigate their way through this unchartered territory. They are saved by a buzzer going off in the kitchen, and Kate ushers Jo after her, Rick following them.

"I forgot I had these," he remembers as they reach the kitchen, and he holds out the bouquet of flowers.

"You didn't have to do that," Kate says as she reaches for them, but he pulls them back slightly.

"Sorry," he says, hoping that the apology he verbalizes is also visible in his expression. "They're for Jo."

Kate's outstretched hand retreats, and while part of him is sorry for embarrassing her like that, the part of him that is still hurt and angry with her for not once contacting him until it was absolutely unavoidable.

Jo jumps in and takes the flowers, mutters a soft _thank you_ as she turns away and finds a vase for them before she situates them on the table.

When they all finally sit down at the table for dinner, he's not the only one who has lost all ability to talk. Kate and Jo are both paying way too much attention to the food on their plates-they're readjusting the potatoes almost exactly the same way-and Rick feels like he needs to do something soon to get the conversation going or his chance to be involved in Jo's life might be lost forever.

"Jo, your mom tells me you work for the school newspaper."

"Yeah," she says as she looks up at him. "New editor, actually. The previous editor graduated at semester, so I stepped in. It's been stressful."

"In what way?"

"Most of the people who are involved, they get an assignment and think they can just turn it in whenever they feel like it. They don't understand all the work that takes place once their work is done to get the final product out to the student body. Mom, how long do you think I was working on layout the other night?"

Kate looks up from her plate and ponders the question for a moment. "Just layout? I'd say three hours at least, but I don't know how long you were working on it before I got home from the precinct. And that's not counting the couple hours you spent editing that night, too."

"That was a long night."

"I finally had to hide the laptop and make you study for your chemistry test. Speaking of, has that test been posted yet? I haven't had a chance to check the online grade book lately."

Rick sits back in his chair, enjoying this moment between mother and daughter. He's already learned so much about both of them from their conversation, even if it has veered off in a direction he didn't expect. Jo avoids her schoolwork sometimes when she's focused on completing a task, most likely one she's more interested in. And despite Kate's busy and undoubtedly dangerous job, she still finds time to stay up to date on her daughter's schedule to the extent of checking Jo's grades online.

And they've done all this without him.

The thought fights its way to the surface in the middle of what has been interesting dinner conversation despite the initial awkwardness, and he knows he should suppress it, at least for now. He forces himself to keep paying attention to their exchange, looking for a way in.

"I just don't see how chemistry is going to matter, Mom," Jo says, and he holds out his hand to stop Kate from responding immediately.

"Not looking into a career as a chemist, I take it?"

"No, I want to be an investigative journalist." She says the words with confidence, not even a speck of uncertainty in her voice. He knows he has nothing to do with it, but she's much like him when he was her age. He knew very early on he wanted to be a writer and never wavered from that goal.

"Ah, the young Lois Lane. The intrepid reporter out to right the wrongs of society." The smile is blooming across his face, and he doesn't miss Kate's smile across the table. He didn't realize how much he missed that smile until it was there staring back at him.

"Like Lois Lane, yes," Jo tells him. "But not so much because of society's wrongs. Quite the opposite, really. I think there's enough negativity in the world already. Someone needs to investigate and highlight _what's right_ about the world."

He has an amazing daughter. Actually, he has _two_ amazing daughters. But he's just learning about how amazing Jo is, and the realization throws him.

Jo, why don't you take Rick into the living room while I clear off the dishes?" Kate suggests, again bringing him out of his contemplation. He stands and follows Jo into the adjoining room, hearing Kate's voice again from the kitchen, "Coffee, anyone?"

He agrees to a cup, as does Jo, causing him to chuckle as they sit across from each other.

"Something funny?"

"You're a coffee drinker."

"Yeah, so?"

She looks annoyed with him for not explaining beyond stating the obvious, so he decides to humor her. "Kate-your mom-was well on her way to being a coffee junkie at Stanford. I think she would have hooked up an IV during finals if she could have."

"For as long as I can remember," Jo tells him as she relaxes back into the couch, "she's had a cup in her hand every morning when she comes in to wake me up for school. Though, sometimes she has to set it down to force me out of bed."

"Did Rick tell you that his coffee-drinking habit was just as bad as mine, if not worse?" Kate asks Jo, walking into the living room carrying a tray that holds a carafe and three mugs. She sits in the chair opposite Jo, and pours them each a cup.

"Hey, now. You didn't seem to mind the handful of times I smuggled coffee into the library so you could keep studying."

Kate smiles and looks into her mug, and Rick thinks she may be choosing her words. When she speaks a moment later, he holds his breath.

"I had to give it up while I was pregnant with Jo, if it makes you feel any better. Just the smell made me nauseous."

"Was it bad? The sickness?" he asks her, curious about the pregnancy he wasn't allowed to be a part of. He should be mad. Hell, he _is_ mad at her for what she did, but he's also sitting in Kate's living room having dinner with _their_ daughter.

"I didn't have the usual morning sickness, but coffee was definitely one of those foods I couldn't have. Mostly I was exhausted, physically and mentally."

He wants to plead with her that he could have helped, could have been there for her and helped her through everything that was happening to her all at once. But he doesn't want to do that in front of Jo, knowing that it would most likely end in an argument.

Over the course of their cup of coffee, he learns that Jo goes camping with Jim Beckett for two weeks every summer, a tradition they started when she was nine. The three of them usually spend Christmas at the Beckett family cabin as long as the weather isn't too horrible. Most surprising to him is that Kate cooks dinner at least three times a week, depending on her caseload at the precinct. _"You were the ramen queen!"_ he protested, much to the pleasure of Jo.

When he downs the last of his coffee, he looks at his watch and sees how late it is. He jumps up, taking his own cup to the kitchen.

"Sorry, but I have to go. I'd like to be home when Alexis and Mother get back from the theatre."

Time got away from him, he was enjoying himself so much. He was enjoying getting to know Jo, and by extension, he was learning about what it was like for Kate while she was pregnant. He's angry about that, the knowledge that he was oblivious to everything she was going through during that time gnawing at him. But that same knowledge is helping him, because at least now he knows what happened. He still doesn't like it, but that time period isn't a blank space for him anymore.

In his haste to get back home, he almost runs into Jo as he turns the corner exiting the kitchen that leads to the front door. She's hugging him like she would her favorite stuffed animal, and he doesn't waste any time returning it. He had minimal expectations coming here, not sure how Jo would feel about her father finally waltzing into her life. But this show of affection from her gives him hope that, even though they've missed out on so much, there's still hope for the future.

"Alexis...that's your daughter-I mean, you _other_ daughter, right?"

He opens his mouth to answer, and his eyes find Kate watching their exchange in the background. He hates that she can tell he's asking permission, hates that he has to ask permission in the first place, but it's there.

"Yes, Alexis. She's thirteen."

"Does she know about me?" Jo asks nervously.

He checks Kate in the background again, sees that she's paying close attention to his answer, before he confesses. "No, she doesn't. Not yet. I was nervous about tonight, so I wanted to wait and see how this went."

Jo nods and lets him pass toward the door, opening it for him as he grabs his jacket. "But I can meet her soon?"

She's nothing like the confident young adult he saw an hour ago, the one who knows exactly what she wants to do with her life and screams _leader_.

"Absolutely," he assures her with a pat to her shoulder, "You can come over for dinner some time soon. I'll make sure Mother-your grandma-doesn't do the cooking."

"Thanks, Mr. Castle."

He was almost out the door when she said it. He'd already turned around, was ready to walk out the door when she referred to him in such a formal manner. On one hand, he had to applaud her manners. But, she also needed to know that he wasn't just some acquaintance that showed up on Christmas and her birthday.

"Listen, Jo, I know I haven't earned the right to be your dad yet. I'm your father, yes, but I'm not your dad. I hope we get to that point sometime in the future, but until we get there, you can call me Rick."

Jo simply nods, and he smiles back at her, happy for the progress they've made in such a short amount of time. He glances up at Kate, who has been watching them interact this whole time, and she's looking guilty, like she's about to burst their happy little bubble."

"Castle, can I have a word before you go?"

She steps forward and follows him out the door, shutting the door behind them and leaving Jo alone in the apartment.

"You haven't told Alexis yet?" Kate whispers.

"You heard me tell Jo that I hadn't," he whispers back, aware of the fact that Jo is most likely doing her best to hear every word of the hushed conversation.

"Rick, you need to tell her. She deserves to know."

"You're fucking kidding me," he lashes out, immediately losing his cool. So much for not arguing in front of the kids. "You have absolutely no _right_ to talk to me about this. I've waited _one week_ to tell Alexis she has an older sister. You, on the other hand, waited _sixteen years_ to tell me about Jo! I fail to see how you're an expert advice-giver in this situation."

"I beat myself up _every day-every damn day-_ for the decisions I made. I think about what life would be like if Mom hadn't been killed almost every day. I think about us-if we'd be married, if we'd have more kids, if we'd be living here or California or somewhere else completely."

"Kate," he says, not sure how else to respond. He's thought about those same things, too. But if Kate hadn't disappeared, he probably wouldn't have Alexis. And he can't imagine his life without her.

"She's hearing all of this, isn't she?" she says with a soft voice, the anger dissipating for now. Rick simply nods, resigned to the fact that their daughters are undoubtedly going to hear them coming to terms with their situation, and that it will sometimes be ugly.

Kate runs her hands over her face and runs her fingers through her hair. "I hate this."

"I hate to keep bringing this up, but you brought 'this' upon yourself."

"I'm glad I can rely on you to remind me of these things."

"Always," he says, and both their eyes go wide. The eye contact is brief before they both look away. The word meant something for them once, and he doesn't know why he suddenly felt inclined to use it again, especially considering they were arguing but a couple minutes ago. "I...I should go," he finally says, still not able to meet her eyes after his slip.

"Yeah. If you don't mind, I'll give Jo your number. You shouldn't have to use me as a go-between."

"I don't mind."

There's another awkward moment of silence between them, and he has this compulsion to apologize for something, though he's not exactly sure what. But he hasn't done anything wrong, he remembers, so he turns and starts down the hallway.

"Goodnight, Kate."


	8. Chapter 8

_Thanks to Ally for the read-through, and to everyone who is still reading._

* * *

When Rick arrives back at the loft, he feels mentally and physically beat. He tosses his keys in the direction of the bowl on the breakfast bar, not caring when he misses completely and his keys slide halfway across the counter. He flops on the couch, his head falling against the armrest about the same time his forearm covers his eyes.

"Richard, are you drunk?"

He never thought he would prefer his mother's presence over his daughter's, but he doesn't know if he can handle telling Alexis his big bombshell tonight. Tonight, he just needs someone to listen.

"No, I'm not drunk."

"Then why are you throwing things? Alexis and I figured you were probably _out_ tonight."

"Where is Alexis?" he asks, sitting up and scrubbing his hands over his eyes.

"In her room. She mentioned reading, but that was a while ago. Knowing that girl, she's already fast asleep."

Rick simply nods. Were it any other night, he would want to know all about their evening, but he just can't muster it right now.

"What's on your mind? You've been off ever since that guy was copycatting your books. Is that bothering you?"

He shakes his head, trying to find the words to explain the series of events that have brought him to this night.

"You remember Kate, my girlfriend from freshman year at Stanford?"

"Yes, nice girl who broke your heart when she disappeared off the face of the earth?"

His mother had only met Kate briefly, during what turned out to be their only Christmas break together. Martha was in a show at the time, so she wasn't around much, giving Rick more time to spend with Kate and her parents. But Martha did manage to have lunch with them the Friday before Christmas, and she'd gushed to him for days about how lovely Kate was and how different she was from his other girlfriends.

"That's the one. Turns out she's in the city. She's the homicide detective I worked with on the case."

"But I thought she was going to be a lawyer?"

"So did I. Turns out, her mom was killed the day after I went back to Stanford. She stayed here and dealt with that-her dad turned to the bottle."

The words have no life to them. They've run through his head numerous times in the days since Kate explained her situation to him, but he has yet to find a way of repeating them that sounds the way he wants them to.

"Oh, that poor girl!"

"You won't be saying that in a minute, not when I tell you that you have another granddaughter."

"What did you just say?"

"Turns out she hit the trifecta-her mom died, alcoholic father, and she found out she was pregnant-all in a month's time."

He watches her expression, wants to see her initial reaction as opposed to the one she'll throw on in the hopes of helping him deal with this information. Until now, he's been trying to deal with it on his own.

"Is that why she never contacted you-she had a child with another man?"

"No."

"Son, what exactly are you trying to tell me here? It's late, I'm tired, and I'm missing something."

"Kate had a daughter, about eight months later. She's my daughter, too. Her name's Jo-short for Johanna."

He watches Martha's reaction closely. She goes from shock to anger to understanding, but he can't tell whose situation she understands more, his or Kate's.

"That's where I was tonight-at Kate's meeting my daughter. Your granddaughter."

Martha's hand covers her mouth, and she tries in vain to hold in the tears. "You said her name's-"

"Johanna, but she goes by Jo. That was Kate's mom's name."

Martha's hand covers her mouth again, and she gives him a sideways glance. "And how are you taking this?"

"I don't know. I'm angry at Kate for not telling me about Jo. But Mom, she's…" He trails off, the appropriate words to describe Jo not coming to him. He's overwhelmed, even though he knows he's only just starting to know her.

"Who's Jo?"

The words coming from the staircase stun both of them, all four eyes turning to see Alexis standing on the landing.

"Pumpkin, I thought you were asleep."

"Uh huh, Dad. You're not going to change the subject and evade the question. Who's Jo?"

Sometimes his thirteen year old gave him fits. Alexis shouldn't-at least not at this age-recognize his evasion tactics so well. He waves her down into the living room, and Martha stands at the same time, telling him "I'll leave you two to it."

He really didn't want to do this tonight, not when he's already strung out over the events of the night. But he can't deny Alexis any longer, and he knows that keeping this information from her will only make matters worse the longer it goes on.

"Why do I get the feeling that Jo isn't your new golfing buddy?" she asks as she sits down next to him in her pajamas, her long red hair in a braid down the middle of her back.

" _She_ is not a golfing buddy, no."

"It must be serious if Gram left us alone to talk." A beat of time passes before her awareness kicks in and her expression turns to one of shock with a little bit of disgust added in. "God, Dad. Did you get this girl pregnant?"

He stands up, electing to pace as opposed to meeting Alexis's disappointed gaze any longer. "The fact that you're not entirely off base in your accusation is exactly why I wasn't looking forward to this conversation."

"You did! Geez, Dad, this is embarrassing."

He stops his pacing to see the look on her face, and he crosses the floor back to the couch immediately. He's horrible at this, doesn't know how to explain the situation to her in a way that doesn't make him sound like a dead-beat dad, even though it's not his fault.

"Just...listen. Before you start jumping to conclusions and passing judgments on _dear old Dad_ , listen to what I have to say."

She straightens up and trains her eyes on his while she waits for him to find the right way to explain this whole thing.

"Jo isn't some girl I got pregnant. She's your sister. Your _older_ sister."

Alexis's eyes go wide, and he knows immediately that if she wasn't awake before, she certainly is now.

"Please tell me you haven't been hiding her away somewhere, going off to visit her when you say you're going away on book signing trips."

"I almost wish that were the case," he says with a chuckle, but quickly realizing how bad that sounds. "I mean, that would be easier to explain. Unfortunately, I only found out about Jo a couple days ago. I met her for the first time tonight."

"And you're sure she's yours, Dad. Seriously, these people could just be looking for money."

"I'm more than sure, Honey."

"Can you be? Really? Because the fan sites say-"

"What have I told you about going on the fan sites?" he reminds her, getting into the heart of why he was dreading this conversation with her. His love life is the absolute last thing he wants to be discussing with his thirteen year old daughter. And he can only imagine what kind of rumors and flat out lies are circulating on those web sites. He really should pay more attention to what's being said on them, but he never really had a reason to until now.

"They have to get their information from somewhere."

"Maybe, but I'd rather _you_ get your information from me, not some rag that is paid to boost my public image by Black Pawn."

"You really want me to come ask you who your flavor of the week is?" she asks, leaning back against the back of the couch.

"This is awkward," he responds, not sure how he's supposed to answer that. "There are some things I'd rather not discuss with my teenage daughter. Let's just leave it at that, okay?"

"And yet, we kind of have to. Turns out I have a sister, and you were going to tell me about how you could be so sure before we got side-tracked."

"Yeah," he agrees in an attempt to buy himself some time. "I had a run-in with an old girlfriend the other day. In fact, she was the lead detective on that case I was called in for last week."

"An old girlfriend? But if this girl is older than me, then that means-"

"Freshman year at Stanford. I'm sure I probably mentioned her at some point."

"Kate, right?"

Rick nods and lets Alexis process, sees the small amount of anger she held dissipate. He's told Alexis about Kate a couple times before, given her the PG version of their relationship and how heartbroken he was when she disappeared.

"She's Jo's mom. She was born about eight months after I saw Kate the last time."

He has a hard time trying to stay neutral about it, only giving Alexis facts he knows with certainty. Just like he wants to get to know Jo and be involved in her life, he hopes the same can happen with Jo and Alexis. And if that's going to happen, he has to do his best to keep the anger he feels toward Kate from transferring to Jo.

"So you're sure she's yours because?"

"I went over to Kate's tonight for dinner and met her. She looks a lot like Kate, but she has my eyes."

"Lots of people have blue eyes, Dad. That doesn't mean they're all your kids."

"That's not what I meant," he huffs as he finds it more difficult to not tell her the whole story. Hell, _he_ doesn't even know the whole story. He knows most of it, but he suspects Kate is still holding out on him, that there's more she could tell him that would calm him down and reassure him. "The timing is right. And I trust her."

"You trust the woman who left you, disappeared without a trace, and conveniently forgot to tell you about the daughter you fathered? She sounds like such a trustworthy person."

"I need you to trust me on this. Jo is my daughter, your sister. She wants to meet you, actually."

Something shifts in Alexis's demeanor, and he sees that she's probably starting to see what this could mean for her, that this could be a good thing. Meredith has never been around much, and as much as he knows Alexis loves her Gram, there's definitely a generation gap there. And he definitely doesn't understand the mind of a teenage girl, especially what it means to raise one. He hopes, if nothing else, that Alexis and Jo can become sisters and friends, even in the face of the unconventional way their family is developing.

"Can we wait on that? At least a few days?" she asks, her voice low and apprehensive.

"Sure, Pumpkin. I didn't want to plan anything until I'd talked to you anyway. And I think it might take some doing to get everyone's schedules to agree."

Alexis nods her agreement, then slaps his knee a couple times before standing and stretching. "If that's all the life-changing news you have tonight, I think I'm going to bed." She makes it to the stairs before stopping and turning around to address him again. "You going to be OK, Dad?"

"Yeah," he shifting around on the couch so that his arm rests on the back of the seat. "Don't worry about me. I'll figure it out. 'Night, Pumpkin. I love you."

"Love you, too, Dad."

* * *

 **Twitter:** supermandy77

 **Tumblr:** supermandy1977


	9. Chapter 9

_Thanks to Ally for the beta._

* * *

Rick is surprised to get a text from Jo a couple days later, asking if he could meet her for coffee after she gets out of school. She doesn't say why, just mentions a place she likes a few blocks from her school. He agrees to meet her, even though he has an uneasy feeling about her reasons.

He waits for her at one of the outside tables, jumping up to meet her when he sees her approaching. She waves, a smile blooming across her face as she reaches him.

"Hi," he tells her, giving her what is probably the most awkward half-hug he has ever experienced. She probably didn't expect it from him, so she tensed, which caused him to second-guess the move.

"Hi, Mr….uh, Rick." She catches herself, and he notices the blush that floods her cheeks when she makes the mistake. He doesn't acknowledge it right away, instead holding the door for her as they walk inside the coffee shop.

He suggests that she get a table while he orders for them. After he gets their orders, he turns to find her, noticing that she has picked a table by the window.

"White chocolate mocha," he announces as he takes the seat across from her, watching carefully as he eyes reluctantly tear away from the busy street outside.

"Thanks...Rick." She says it as an afterthought, almost like she's practicing and getting used to it.

"Good," he laughs. "Usually when people call me Mr. Castle they're about to ask for a favor."

"Well…"

"You don't count, you know," he tries to reassure her, though it comes out wrong, causing her eyes to shoot up to his. "That's not-what I meant is that you're entitled to ask for favors, and you don't have to call me Mr. Castle to do it. I want you to feel like you can ask me favors."

She doesn't answer right away, but he decides to wait her out and watch as her eyes gravitate once more to the world outside the window.

"Something interesting out there?" he asks her finally.

"You ever wonder," she starts, her eyes never leaving the scene that unfolds outside, "at least in the last couple weeks, how we could be living in the same city all these years and never know the other one exists until now?"

He sighs heavily, knowing exactly what she means. "It's a big city, and it's quite possible that our paths never crossed. And had it not been for that copy cat killer case…"

"Mom admitted that she might not have ever told me-about you, that is."

He nods and takes a drink of his latte, the thought having crossed his mind many times since Kate admitted to him that Jo was his daughter. "She told me something similar."

"Aren't you angry with her? Other than the brief shouting match you had outside the apartment the other night, I have yet to see you lose your temper."

"I have my moments, trust me. I just choose them carefully. As for the other night," he begins, remembering his exchange with Kate before he left their apartment the night he met Jo, "you shouldn't have heard that. I-we-don't want you to be stuck in the middle of all the baggage we have to sort through."

"The only problem with that plan is that I'm the great majority of your baggage. I'm going to be in the middle no matter what."

"Jo, I-" he starts, but trails off, not sure how to reassure her that she's not a complication to his life.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, if that's what you were about to do. I was hoping you could help me understand something, though."

"Sure," he says, sitting up straighter at the prospect of helping her in some way. "What can I do?"

"You can-I mean, could you-Mom has never been much of a sharer, especially when it comes to information about my parentage."

That doesn't really surprise him, at least not like it should. Kate has changed so much since the last time he saw her in the airport, and he imagines the last thing she would have wanted would be to encourage more questions about the identity of Jo's father.

"What do you want to know?" Even as he asks, he imagines all the uncomfortable questions and conversations that could come from this. But this is his daughter, and she deserves to hear both sides of the story. He makes a mental note to suggest that Kate share more with Jo, even if it's painful for her to do so.

"Mom said you dated at Stanford. How did you meet?"

Oh. She wants _their story_. That he can do.

"We actually met the spring before, while we were both there for a campus visit."

* * *

 _The group gathered for the campus tour is almost thirty people, a mixture of prospective students and parents. From what he can tell, he's the only one who's here without someone. His mother is doing a play back in New York, and she couldn't get away, so here he is by himself._

 _Shortly into their tour, he is almost certain he's walking alongside a girl and her parents who were on the same flight to California. He remembered them-the reserved looking father and the mother and daughter who looked like they could be sisters. He keeps pace with them throughout the tour but doesn't say anything to her-or her parents. Just thinking about it makes him feel like a creeper._

 _The students separate from their parents after the initial tour, convening for a question and answer session with current students. He sees this as his opportunity, and he quickly finds her in the lecture hall and smiles when he sees that there is an open seat next to her._

" _Is this seat taken?"_

 _She turns to face him, and he holds his breath. He'd known she was beautiful, but until now most of his glances had been sideway glances out of fear of her father noticing. Seeing her now though, he's taken aback._

" _I don't mind," she said simply, turning back to the Stanford books in front of her. He quickly takes the seat next to her, not wanting to give her a chance to change her mind._

" _I'm Rick."_

" _Kate."_

 _He wants to say something else, but the students come in and start the Q &A. Kate keeps her attention to the front, not giving him the opportunity to make small talk with her. It's only when the session ends and they're making their way to the cafeteria that he can talk to her again._

" _You're from New York, aren't you?"_

" _How do you know that?" she asks him, turning around to face him as he tries to catch up with her._

" _We were on the same flight here."_

" _And that immediately means I'm from New York? Maybe we had a connecting flight from somewhere else." She takes a piece of chocolate out of her bag and pops it in her mouth almost absent-mindedly._

" _But that piece of chocolate says otherwise. That's Leonidas chocolate from Madison Avenue. Would you like to revise your story?"_

" _Are you some kind of stalker or something?"_

 _This girl completely throws him off his game. She makes him nervous and unsure of himself. And that is not Rick Rodgers. Maybe he should just leave her alone._

" _No, I'm not. Sorry to bother you." He walks past her, making his way to the cafeteria with the rest of the crowd._

 _After he gets his meal, he finds a small table and pulls out the book he brought with him for the flight, one he was unfortunately almost done reading._

" _I'm sorry," he hears a voice say softly, looking up to see Kate sitting down across from him. "I was really mean earlier."_

" _Mean? You called me a stalker. I was just trying to be friendly. We're New Yorkers contemplating college in California. These people are a whole different breed."_

" _Maybe some of us are looking forward to the change," she tells him, smiling at the idea. "You've been out here before?"_

" _A few times, actually. My mom's an actress. I traveled with her a lot when I was younger, mostly during the summer."_

 _She doesn't ask about his mother, and for that he is grateful. He hates being known as "Martha Rodgers' son," and has even been seriously considering changing his name if he is ever published. He wants to make his own path, not one his mother helped pave._

" _So why come out here, if you think people here are so weird?"_

" _Because I can...and have you seen the women out here? Teenage boy's dream."_

" _Ah, so it's for purely hormonal reasons. You've restored my confidence in the male gender."_

 _He doesn't miss her sarcasm, or the way her mouth upturns into a smile despite her words. Kate is proving to be easier to talk to than he originally thought after his initial attempt at conversation._

" _What is that you're reading?" she asks a moment later, pointing to the almost forgotten book in his hand._

"Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone," _he reads to her, showing her the cover of the book._

" _I've heard of that. Isn't it a children's book, though?"_

" _Yeah, but it's really good."_

 _Kate leans back in her seat, a look of disapproval on her face. "I don't know. How interesting can a book about wizards be?"_

" _See, I thought that, too," he tells her excitedly, leaning forward in his chair and flipping through the pages. "But it's about so much_ more _than that. He's an orphan, and his aunt and uncle completely mistreat him. And everyone knows more about him than he knows about himself. It's self-discovery at its finest."_

" _Self-discovery, huh? Well that makes it worth reading right there."_

 _She's killing him with the sarcasm, and he loves it._

" _What's your problem with children's literature? I suppose you read much more sophisticated literature."_

 _She reached down into her bag and pulled out a large tome, waving it in front of his face. "I finished reading this-for the second time-on the way here."_

" _Tolstoy. Nice. Let me guess, you're a Russian Lit major?"_

" _Nope. Pre-Law, actually."_

 _He nods and pulls a pen out of his bag, opening the cover of his book and jotting something down before handing the book over to her._

" _Rick Rodgers, 646-555-4985. Is this you making a move on me?"_

" _No," he tells her, pushing the book back in her direction. "This is me challenging you. Read the book. I just finished it. And when you're done, give me a call and I'll buy you a coffee instead of saying 'I told you so.'"_

" _So, you_ are _making a move on me."_

" _No, I'm loaning you a book, which gives me an excuse to see you again. We do live in the same city, after all."_

 _Kate sits back in her seat again and smirks. "You seem pretty confident that I'll not only read the book, but that I'll call you when I'm done."_

" _Ah, come on, Kate. You're underestimating me."_

" _How so?"_

" _Even if you don't call, we'll both be students here next fall. We're bound to run into each other eventually." He shrugs and leans back, confident that he has her, even if she hasn't admitted it yet. "Or, you could save us the time and trouble and just call when you finish the book."_

" _I still haven't agreed to read it."_

" _You will."_

" _And what makes you so sure?"_

" _Because you want to see me again."_

" _Oh, I do?"_

" _Yes."_

 _He knows he pushing it, can tell by the flush in her cheeks that he's pushing_ her _, but she hasn't really done anything so far to discourage him. If he's reading her right, she's enjoying it. She's been taking all his comments and throwing them right back at him, and he's loving it, loving how she isn't letting him get away with any of his bullshit._

 _Their tour leader comes over the intercom and announces that they'll be leaving in a few minutes to meet up with their parents, and they both gather their lunch trays and throw away their trash._

" _Are you going back to New York today?" he asks hopefully. Now that he knows her, knows that she's not the stuck up Manhattanite he originally thought she might be, he wants to learn more about her._

" _No, we're staying for a couple days," she tells him. "My dad has a friend from law school who lives out here. We're staying with him for a couple days. You're going back?"_

 _He nods, fully aware of how much he_ doesn't _want to go back right away. "Tonight, yeah. My suspension is up, and I can't miss any more days if I want to be here in the fall."_

" _Your suspension?" she asks as they make their way outside toward the quad._

" _Uh," he laughs, realizing too late that he's divulged more information than he'd intended. "I may have been given an 'unscheduled vacation' for strategically placing a cow in the bell tower at school."_

 _She laughs, and he thinks it's the most beautiful sight he's ever seen. It's at his expense, but he doesn't even care. The girl who reads Tolstoy and scoffs at children's literature is laughing at his antics, and if that makes her laugh, he has a whole library of his exploits to share with her that he's sure she'll find just as amusing._

" _How did you get a cow in the city, let alone up to a bell tower?" she finally asks, once she's finished laughing._

" _You're asking the wrong questions," he smiles back at her. "I believe the better question-and the one that gave me the chance to come out here for a visit-is how did the cow get_ down _from the bell tower?"_

 _Their conversation is cut off when they reach her parents. He doesn't miss their expressions, the one of immediate disapproval on her father's face, and the look of amusement on her mother's. He knows her father is a lawyer, but he wonders if her mother is as well. It would certainly explain Kate's pre-law major._

 _She introduces them, and he is the model of a gentleman for her parents, shaking hands and exchanging_ nice to meet you _s until they are interrupted one last time by their tour guide._

" _So, Rick, you're flying back today?"_

" _Yes, sir," he says curtly, not daring to share the same information he had with Kate. "I stayed with a friend of my mom's last night. He's meeting me in about fifteen minutes to take me to the airport."_

 _At that, Kate starts to dig through her bag. She pulls out her book and a pen, jotting something down before she hands it to him. "Here."_

" _Wh-"_

" _Just read it. It's kind of self-explanatory, and I know you have a plane to catch."_

 _He does as he's told and opens the front cover to read her words._

Consider this collateral.

Kate Beckett

212-555-0730

* * *

 **A/N:** _Just for the sake of clarification, Rick was reading HP and the **Philosopher's Stone**_. _The US version (HP and the Sorcerer's Stone) wasn't released in the States until September of 1998, so he couldn't be reading that version of it yet._

* * *

 ** _Twitter:_** _supermandy77_

 ** _Tumblr:_** _supermandy1977_


	10. Chapter 10

_Thanks, as always, to Ally for the beta._

 _Also, I forgot to give thanks to Ilovetoread09 last chapter for her assistance with New York food. So, thank you. Better late than never._

* * *

Jo is just finishing getting ready when Kate walks through the door. It's been a busy couple weeks for everyone, making it difficult to schedule to a time for Jo to go to Rick's for dinner. Not only will it be the first time she's been to his loft, but she'll also be meeting Alexis and Martha for the first time. A younger sister and another grandparent, something she would have never even considered a month ago.

"Are you on your way out?" her mom asks as she toes off her heels at the door, picking them up and carrying them toward her bedroom.

"Yeah," she says with a sigh. "Are you sure you don't want to join us? I'm sure Rick would be fine with it."

"Oh, honey." Kate stops in her tracks, her hand over the back of the couch. "Rick might be okay with it, but I'm sure Martha and Alexis wouldn't be. If I'm there, the whole night would become about everything I did wrong instead of meeting your sister and grandma. Trust me, it's better that I sit this one out."

Jo nods in agreement, but it does nothing to diminish the nervousness she feels about the whole evening. What if they don't like her? What if she spends the whole night defending her mother anyway, even though she had no control over it?

"They'll love you, Jo. Stop questioning it." Her mother's voice breaks through her questions, and when Jo's eyes finally focus back on the present, Kate is standing in front of Jo with her hand on Jo's arm. "You amaze me. I can listen to you argue on the phone or Skype to the newspaper kids, and you are so assertive, so sure of yourself. But you clam up at the idea of meeting your sister and grandma. You were the same way the night Rick came over for the first time-nervous as hell."

"Yeah, well, that happens when you spend sixteen years not knowing who your father is, only to find out he's been in the city the whole time and is blissfully unaware of your existence."

Jo regrets the words the moment they leave her lips, knowing in her heart that it was never that simple. Though she has yet to get her mom to open up much about her reasons for not telling her about Rick, she knows it's eaten away at Kate for years.

"I deserve that."

"I still wish you were coming. I could use some familiarity."

"Rick will be there. I'm sure he'll make you feel welcome. And I met Martha once; she's very...vibrant."

Jo takes a deep breath, gathering her purse and making sure she has her keys. A quick glance at the clock tells her she has about thirty minutes to make it to Rick's, and she better get in a cab soon if she doesn't want to be late.

"You have the address?"

"Rick texted it to me yesterday. He had to cancel on coffee-something about a meeting with his publisher."

Jo walks to the door with her mother following her, and she takes another deep breath as she opens the door.

"Everything will be fine. Relax," Kate tells her, though her expression shows she shares Jo's nerves about the whole thing.

She gives her mom a kiss on thecheek, and walks out the door, silently wondering how she's ever going to survive this night.

* * *

The loft is a bustle of activity in preparation for their dinner with Jo. Alexis is setting the table while Martha prepares the salad. Rick is in the bedroom changing clothes when his cellphone buzzes-a message from Kate:

 _She's on her way. And she's nervous._

That Jo is nervous doesn't surprise him, but the play-by-play from Kate does. He finishes buttoning his shirt and walks out of his room, trying to think of something appropriate to type back to her. He appreciates that Kate is keeping him in the loop and preparing him for his nervous daughter, though he's sure there is plenty of nervousness in the loft already.

 _Great, she'll fit right in,_ he types back, hitting send before muting his phone and putting it in his pants pocket.

"Kate says Jo is on her way," he tells the girls as he joins them in the kitchen. "So, I was hoping we could have a quick meeting before she gets here. You know, make sure we're all on the same page."

Martha and Alexis both stop what they're doing and make eye contact with him. He continues once he knows he has their attention.

"I guess-" he starts, trying his best not to accuse them of something that hasn't even happened yet, "just remember that Jo had no control over Kate's actions-or lack thereof. It's easy to blame Kate, and while she _does_ hold most the blame-"

"More like _all_ ," Martha interjects.

"Fine, _all_ ," he concedes, though he is even more determined to make his point now. "Kate made some pretty huge mistakes, but she's still Jo's mother. And I think the last thing we need to do, Mother, is make snide comments like the ones you just made. We want to make a good impression."

"Dad, I thought you said you and Jo have hit it off."

"We have, but it's still only been a few weeks. And meeting her grandma and little sister? Tell me that isn't nerve-wracking." He sees them nod in agreement before he continues. "The extent of her family up to this point has been Kate and Kate's dad. Now in the space of a month, she has a father, another grandparent, and a sister.

"I have to say, Richard, you're being very mature about this whole arrangement," his mother says, even as she goes back to moving dishes from the kitchen to the dining room table.

"Like I said, Jo shouldn't have to suffer for the decisions Kate made." Rick takes a deep breath, taking a look around the kitchen before he hears the doorbell. Raising a hand to both warn the girls, as well as to calm himself, he takes another breath and walks to the door.

"Hey," he says a little too enthusiastically when he opens the door. He ushers her inside right away, closing the door behind her and watching as she takes in the loft for the first time.

"You live here?" she mumbles, her eyes staying focused on the expanse of space in front of them. "I think our whole apartment could fit in just the living room."

"Yeah," he tells her, but he's careful not to throw his money in her face. He instead waves Alexis and Martha over in an attempt to shift the focus. "Jo, this is my mom, Martha." Jo turns around, a nervous smile on her face, so he pulls Alexis forward and begins the introduction that makes _him_ nervous. "And this, is Alexis."

Jo extends her right hand, a _nice to meet you_ starting to fall from her lips when Martha barrels forward and pulls her into a hug. Martha doesn't hold back, and Rick can do nothing but shrug his shoulders and smile at Jo when she meets his eyes as Martha continues to squeeze her.

" _Gram,_ " Alexis interjects, allowing Jo to take a breath once Martha finally releases her. "Hi," Alexis says, extending her hand once it looks like Jo has gotten over the shock of Martha's exuberance. "It's nice to meet you."

They get past the initial introductions and move to the dining room, everyone taking their seats while Rick and Martha pass dishes around the table.

And then there's quiet.

He finds himself in a difficult position, one where he needs to be the facilitator of this gathering, and he doesn't exactly know where to start. On one hand, he wants to gush about Jo to Martha and Alexis. But on the other hand, he doesn't want them-especially Alexis-to feel like he's ignoring them in favor of Jo. Thankfully, Martha doesn't have this problem.

"Jo, Rick tells us you're a writer?"

Martha's question stops everyone, and he's painfully aware that everyone is watching Jo closely for an answer. He searches for a way to get her out of this, to help diminish the blush that is staining her cheeks right now. But she seems to gain control, taking a deep breath and calmly laying down her fork.

"Yes, Ma'am. I'm editor of our school newspaper."

"Did you get the last issue done?" Rick asks, knowing that was one of the problems in getting them together for this meal.

"Finally. We had to argue with the activities director about an article, though. She thinks the word 'sexy' isn't appropriate for a school publication."

"Was it used in a derogatory way?" Alexis asks Jo, and Rick sees the older girl relax as she falls into comfortable conversation. Even more, it's one he knows she's passionate about, judging by the amount of work she puts into it.

"No, it was just a fluff piece-a spotlight article. The writer who did the interview asked the girl where she saw herself in ten years and she said, 'with a sexy husband.' The director, who gets to see the paper before it goes to print, wanted that quote removed."

"Can she do that?" Martha asks Jo, but then turns to Rick and asks him, too. "Can they do that?"

Honestly, he doesn't know, so he's glad when his oldest daughter has an answer readily available.

"Schools still have some First Amendment rights, but our school has what is called 'prior review.' Our activities director gets a proof of the paper, and they're responsible for weeding out anything they think could get the school district in trouble. And there's this stipulation about the content in question disrupting the educational environment."

"So what happened?" Rick inquires, his elbows resting on the table as he waits for the conclusion to Jo's story.

"We won. I went in and argued that the student didn't objectify anyone specific by calling them 'sexy.' It's an ideal and an abstract idea when it's presented the way it was."

He's enjoying just sitting back and watching, as opposed to trying to steer the conversation. Tonight is supposed to be more about Jo, Martha, and Alexis getting to know each other anyway. Alexis hasn't said much, but he can see her interest, the way she's taking everything in and just waiting for her chance.

When they're finished with dinner, Alexis finally speaks up. "Do you want a tour? I can show you where everything is. You know, in case you need to use the bathroom."

Jo follows Alexis upstairs, and Rick busies himself with clearing the dishes from dinner. He takes his phone out of his pocket and checks his messages, seeing that he has a handful from Kate.

 _Did she make it?_

 _How's it going?_

 _She wanted me to come with. I don't think Martha would have appreciated my presence._

 _I know you're busy, but can you text me back when you can?_

 _Are you ignoring me?_

He laughs at the last one, remembering how paranoid she used to get over the smallest things. Apparently some things never change. He replies to them all at once, doing what he can to calm her down: _Yes, it's going well. Good decision. I'm doing it right now, so no, I'm not ignoring you._

Another handful of dishes, and she's messaged him again. _I'm sorry. I just know how nervous she was._

 _You're just being a mom. I completely understand. Alexis is giving her a tour of the loft right now._

His phone starts ringing, and he answers it before balancing it on his shoulder while he carries the last of the dishes into the kitchen. "Texting doesn't work for you?"

"Sorry, I just...you said she was out of the room."

"Kate, everything is fine, I swear. I'm not just saying that to make you feel better."

"I know."

"Is there a certain time I need to send her home?"

"Only if you have something else to do. Could you-"

"I'll let you know when she leaves, yes."

"How did you know I was going to say that?"

Her reactions are typical for a parent, and he's still getting used to her like this. His memories of Kate until recently have consisted of college parties and a deep connection he's never felt with anyone else, despite the fact they only knew each other for about eight months.

"I do the same thing with Alexis," he tells her simply. "I'll make sure it isn't too late."

"Thanks, Rick."

He hears her inhale over the line, and he wonders if she was going to say something else, but when she doesn't, he casts his eyes to the floor, wondering if he'll ever get to the bottom of the Kate Beckett mystery. She certainly isn't going to make it easy on him.

* * *

 **AN:** _The situation that Jo describes during dinner is based on a very similar situation I experienced a few years ago. And yes, the result was the same._

* * *

 ** _Twitter:_** _supermandy77_

 ** _Tumblr:_** _supermandy1977_


	11. Chapter 11

_Thank you so much to everyone who is reading this story. I'm beside myself that people are still enjoying it._

 _This chapter is short, but I felt like it needed to be here and ends at the right place. With chapter 12, time will start moving a little faster._

* * *

When Jo returned from Rick's later that night, she didn't _look_ like she'd had a good evening. Kate had been dozing on the couch, waiting for her to get home, and it was the turn of the dead bolt that finally brought Kate out of her slumber.

"Hey, Sweetie," Kate said sleepily, her words stopping Jo in her path to her bedroom.

"Hi," Jo replies simply, obviously not in the mood for any type of discussion. She crosses the apartment and goes directly for her bedroom, not even stopping long enough to tell Kate about her evening.

Kate stands and stretches, wondering what could have possibly happened from the time Rick let her know that Jo was on her way home to the time she walked through the door. She checks her phone to make sure she didn't miss any messages, then knocks on her daughter's door, determined to find out what's wrong.

"How was your evening?" Kate asks, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Jo is moving about her room, doing what appears to be many things at once. She's shutting down her laptop and shoving it into her bag, gathering up her books, and moving in and out of her closet, in what appears to be a decision-making process on what to wear to school tomorrow.

"Fine."

"That's it? Just 'fine'? Rick seemed to think everything was going great."

"Yeah, it would probably look that way from where he's sitting." She continues to move around the room, and Kate wishes that Jo would just slow down and talk to her. This passive-aggressive behavior has been creeping into their interactions ever since Rick came back into their lives, but she can't fault him for that. No, she has no one to blame but herself.

"Jo, would you just tell me what's bothering you?"

Her daughter falls onto the bed, a loud sigh escaping her before she turns to face Kate. "Tonight I got my first real taste of everything you've deprived me of by not telling me who my father is."

She'd been waiting for this-the day Jo realized her father was rich and could give her more materially speaking than Kate ever could. Money had been tight when Jo was younger, when Kate first joined the force and she was trying to juggle a career with being a single mother. Her father helped as much as possible-she paid back every cent he ever loaned her-but some things she had to do on her own.

"I know he's rich, but-"

"No," Jo says with a raised voice as she sits up on her bed, "that's not even what this is about, despite the fact that his place is _huge_ and he sends Alexis to private school. This is about knowing them, Mom. You know, Martha almost tackled me with a hug tonight. And that was less than five minutes before I walked in the door."

"Yeah," Kate says with a laugh, her few memories of Martha coming to mind, "she's never been one to hold back."

"This is what I'm struggling with, Mom. Rick is great. He's easy to talk to, funny, and nothing like what the tabloids publish. Martha is everything I imagine a grandma would be like…"

Kate sucks in a breath when those words leave Jo's mouth. Jo's eyes meet hers in what Kate thinks is supposed to be an apology, but Kate stops her.

"You're right. You've never known what it's like to have a grandma."

"And I don't want it to sound like it's your fault that Grandma Johanna isn't here, because that's the furthest thing from the truth. But...this whole time, it's been just you and me, with the occasional visit from Grandpa Jim. It didn't have to be that way, though."

"No, it didn't."

Kate can see the way Jo is carefully choosing her words now, as opposed to the pissy attitude she came home with earlier. She hates the way all of this has played out, but ultimately she's glad that Rick walked back into her life and is getting to know his daughter.

"Can I ask you something?"

Kate nods, her nerves stealing her ability to speak. She's always been apprehensive about answering Jo's questions about her father, but now she has no reason to hide it other than the shame she feels for hiding this from Jo-and Rick-for so long.

"Do you think you would have married Rick if…" Jo trails off, her knees pulled up to her chest as she wraps her arms around them.

"If Grandma hadn't died?" Jo nods, and Kate takes a moment before answering. She has nothing to hide anymore. "I really don't know. We were only eighteen when we met."

"Rick told me about that. He said he tried to woo you with help from Harry Potter."

Kate laughs, remembering their hurried lunch at a Stanford campus visit day and how that day had ultimately changed her life. "You talked to him about this?"

"I just...you've never been very open about how you met Rick, even before I knew who he was. So I asked him."

Kate hangs her head, knowing that Jo is absolutely right. And while it was easy for her to sidestep conversations about her father when she was younger, that's no longer the case.

"Was it just about grandma, like you said? You said one time that you found out you were pregnant shortly after that."

"Yeah," Kate agrees, but she holds off opening up. She _wants_ to tell Jo the whole story, feels like she deserves to know, but Rick deserves to know, too. And really, she feels like she should tell him before she tells Jo.

"Don't you love him, Mom? Didn't you love him?" Jo's voice gets louder in the bedroom, her frustration evident in the set of her jaw.

"Of course I loved him! I-"

"You what, Mom? Come on, stop being so stoic about everything and tell me what you're really feeling for a change."

"Rick was...he was everything I didn't know I was looking for."

Kate stands up when the words tumble from her mouth. She'd never put it that way, and she doesn't even know that she'd ever acknowledged that much to herself, even while they were together. Her hands run through her hair, and when she turns back to the bed and Jo, her daughter is looking at her in awe.

"That," Jo says, motioning to the space Kate had occupied until a few moments ago, "that little display right there, knowing that you loved him? That's a start, Mom. And, you know, maybe you should consider telling Rick that some day. He might like to know."

"I doubt it," Kate mutters as she starts for the hallway. She feels strung out, like she was tricked into admitting something she didn't want to.

"He doesn't hate you as much as you think he does," Jo calls after her. Kate stops by the couch, knowing that she's still in Jo's line of sight. "He's pissed you hid me from him, yes. But he doesn't hate you."

"What makes you say that?" she asks as she turns around and sees Jo smirking at her and looking so much like Rick.

"When neither one of you are paying attention, there's still a...spark. And you should have seen him telling me about when you guys first met. He was almost giddy with the memories."

Kate isn't sure that's exactly accurate, but she can't deny the way her gut twisted when she saw him for the first time at the precinct. And despite the bitterness he holds and the shame she feels, their chemistry was hard to deny-even now.

"Get some sleep, Daughter," Kate says, trying her best to crack a smile while at the same time ending the conversation.

"Yes, Mother."

* * *

 **Twitter:** supermandy77

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	12. Chapter 12

He's surprised when Kate invites him over about a week later, only saying they need to talk. He walks in and the apartment is quiet, with no sign of Jo anywhere.

"Jo's not here?"

"No, she has a big chemistry test tomorrow. She's studying with some of her friends," Kate says, pouring him a glass of wine and directing them into the living room. "Why? Does Jo have to be here for us to have a drink together? I thought we were trying to be friends."

They sit on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other, and he takes note of her deliberate movements and the way she takes a deep breath before she sits down. He knew something like this was coming, but he's baffled that he's getting all this information from Jo instead of Kate telling him herself.

Then again, maybe that's what this is all about.

But this is her bridge to cross, and she has to build it first. He can see that she's trying, but he's not sure he knows how to help anymore. He used to know her so well, but so much has happened that he doesn't know if he can put himself out there for her again. At least, not without the _whole_ story.

He waits her out, despite the numerous comments and conversation starters he has at the ready. She takes a hearty drink from her glass before she finally speaks.

"I don't know how to do this."

Of all the things he expected her to say, that wasn't one of them.

"What, exactly, don't you know how to do?" he asks her, his arm falling over the back of the couch.

"I spend my days trying to get information out of people, and I never think twice about it. But when my daughter wants to know about my relationship with her father, I…" Her voice trails off, and she begins to study here wine glass, swirling the liquid around so aggressively that she almost spills it.

"What did she ask you?" He knows they had words when Jo got home from the loft last week, but Jo didn't give specifics.

"She...she said you told her about how we met. And I think she wanted me to help fill in some of the blanks, but I couldn't."

"Kate." He doesn't really know what to say, how to make this better for her. Part of him wants her to suffer through it and have to figure it out on her own. But as they established very early on, this isn't just about the two of them anymore. Their daughter is involved, and would be affected by whatever happens-or doesn't happen-between them now.

She finally looks away from her wine glass and makes eye contact, and he can see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. Kate crying is a new experience for him, and he's having a hard time dealing with it.

"You have to open up to someone. And...I think she's the most important one right now. She seems to be in a better mood after we've talked, like she's starting to understand."

"What exactly do you tell her when you have these talks? Do I have to start feeling embarrassed in addition to everything else?"

"No. It's nothing like that, and I'm not about to tell her anything I think would embarrass either one of us."

"She came home upset last week, but when I asked her about it, she said everything was great. She loves Martha, and it seems like she gets along well with Alexis. And she didn't go into specifics, but she was upset about everything she could have had if I'd made different choices."

"It's true," he tells her, making eye contact with her briefly before studying an imaginary stain on his pant leg. "She could have grown up with more family-more support-than just you and Jim, Kate. You didn't have to do it alone."

"I don't think that's what she meant, at least that's not _all_ she meant."

Oh. Jo did have that stunned reaction to seeing the loft for the first time. "I wondered about that, actually. If there's anything I can do to help, Kate-"

"No," she cuts him off, holding up her hand. "This has nothing to do with money. We're fine." She pauses, opening her mouth as if she's going to say something else, but she looks like she's battling with it, like she's not sure she should share it with him.

"Kate," he says softly as he scoots a little closer on the couch, "there used to be a time when you could tell me anything."

"When Jo was younger," she starts, taking another drink of her wine, "it was easy not to tell her about you. I could easily steer the conversation in another direction, maybe distract her with something more exciting. But she's very persistent, and the tactics I used when she was seven to not give her details don't work now."

He laughs, and it seems to break the tension for the moment. "You mean, the fact that she exists because her mom had sex with someone."

" _Yes_ ," she scowls at him. "But you didn't have to come out and say it."

If he didn't know any better, he'd think she was embarrassed. But the Kate he remembers was definitely not shy about their aspect of their relationship once they got to that point. In fact, she was quite the opposite. There's still something in her expression, though. He hopes it's not-

"Are you...ashamed?"

"What?" She objects, and her voice raises above the comfortable level of conversation they've had until now. She downs the wine remaining in her glass and lays it down on the coffee table. She looks ready to argue, but he needs to get through to her and get to the heart of this.

"Are you ashamed? he repeats. He keeps his eyes on her, willing her to make eye contact with him even though she refuses. "Are you ashamed-of us, of that beautiful young woman we created?"

"No, but-"

"No, but...what, Kate?"

"I threw all that away." She finally looks at him, and the tears that were threatening to fall earlier are now falling down her cheeks. He wants to reach out and brush them away, but right now, he needs to hear what she has to say. "I'm not ashamed of us. I could _never_ be ashamed of us. But I am ashamed of how I ruined us and what we could have had."

The moment the words are out of her mouth, he reaches out for her and pulls her into his arms. Her tears are coming faster now, and he feels them wetting his shirt but he doesn't care. This is the most he's gotten from her in the last month and a half, and he's not about to voice it and possibly cause her to retreat.

"Rick…"

"Shh...just being a good friend, Kate. I'm not going anywhere."

He doesn't say anymore, and she doesn't offer anything more. But she doesn't pull away from his embrace and just silently works through this with him, and for that he is grateful. For the first time in a very long time, they're doing this _together._

It's only when her tears have ceased and she begins wiping at her eyes that he offers up any words.

"I married Alexis's mom-Meredith-because she was pregnant."

Kate's eyes flash up to his, and her mouth opens to speak, but he holds up a finger to stop her. She needs to know all the facts before she starts making wild assumptions.

"Once I accepted that wherever you were, you didn't want to be found, I got a little wild." Kate snorts at his comment, but he narrows his eyes at her again, silently wills her to stop interrupting. "By junior year, I was dating Meredith and had just found out that Black Pawn was going to publish _In a Hail of Bullets._ We got married over the summer, I finished college and we lived on the advance I got for the book, and then moved back to New York. By the time Alexis was four, we were divorced. She moved back to California, and I had full custody."

He finishes the story, only to second-guess telling her in the first place. He wants to reassure her, not make her feel worse.

"I...I wouldn't have walked out on you," he tells her, his voice cracking as he tries to do this right. "I absolutely would have been there for you...and Jo, from the very beginning. I hope you know that."

"I do." She wipes at her eyes again, and looks at him, all her regrets and long forgotten wishes staring back at him. "She...asked me if I loved you."

Rick leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, taking a moment to process the confession. It's a question he would like to know the answer to as well. Those words were thrown between them numerous times in the almost eight months they were together, but he's also doubted how much she meant them in all the years since.

He looks sideways and raises his eyebrows, waiting for her to continue.

"Of course I loved you. And I think I knew that you would stick around, that you would do whatever you had to in order to make a life for us. But I couldn't do that to you, not with the timing of it all."

"What are you talking about?"

"Really, Rick? We were nineteen years old and in the middle of our freshmen years of college. And from what you just told me, you would have proposed and probably taken whatever job you could find just to support us. I couldn't do that to you."

He stands up and drains his glass, walking into the kitchen to get more wine. He decides to bring the bottle with him as he scrolls through possible responses in his head. Could she really claim that she was looking out for his best interests all this time?

"You think you would have held me down? You and Jo? How could you-" he's just gearing up, ready to finally get to the bottom of this whole thing when there's a knock on the door. He stops, glass in one hand and the bottle in the other hand, and he can see that she's just as surprised as he is. "Expecting someone?"

"No," she tells him as she rises from the couch and swipes at her eyes again. "Jo has her keys; she wouldn't have to knock."

He stands in silence as she walks over to the door and opens it. To his surprise, a tall dark-haired man in a leather jacket enters, not even waiting for Kate to invite him inside. And before Rick can fully comprehend what's happening, the man is kissing her.

Kate puts her arms on his chest and pushes him away, but Rick can tell that she knows this guy. _That_ was definitely not a first kiss.

"Josh...hi. When did you get back?"

And then, as if the scene couldn't get any more crowded, Jo comes through the open door. She takes a look around, sees Kate wrapped up in Motorcycle Boy's embrace and Rick standing in the hall with a bottle of wine in his hand before she drops her bag on the floor.

"Oh, shit."

* * *

 **Twitter:** supermandy77

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	13. Chapter 13

_Previously:_

 _"Oh, shit."_

* * *

The scene is one Kate would expect to find in one of Rick's books, not her own apartment. And it pisses her off, because she and Rick were making so much progress. It was painful and she feels like she could lock herself in her bedroom and cry for an hour before eventually falling asleep, but it was progress.

Damn it, Josh wasn't supposed to be back from Haiti for at least another month, and the last thing she expected him to do when he _did_ get back was kiss ambush her in the doorway. The fact that Richard Castle, best-selling author (not to mention her ex-boyfriend and father of her daughter) watched the whole thing take place makes matters worse, but the icing on the cake is Jo coming home and seeing it all.

Her daughter is the first one to gather herself enough to find out what Josh is doing here.

"Dr. Davidson, I thought you were in Haiti."

"I came back early," he tells the girl before he turns to look at Kate. "I wanted to surprise your mom, but by the looks of things, I should have called first."

She follows Josh's eyes as they fall on Rick's, who looks a little mad and _very_ confused.

"Josh," Kate says, stepping toward Rick to pull him by the arm, "this is Rick Castle."

"You mean _the_ Richard Castle? The author?"

"Yes," she admits as she braces herself. Thankfully, Jo has finally shut the door. Whatever is about to play out, she doesn't need the neighbors getting a free show.

"You're kidding me!" Josh laughs as he extends his hand to shake Rick's. "You know Kate is probably your biggest fan. She convinced me to go pick up your last book for her, and she insisted that I be at the bookstore the minute they opened. I had to take it to her at the station, too. She couldn't even wait a few hours to read it."

Kate hangs her head, embarrassed to no end by the way Josh has outed her as a Richard Castle fangirl. But when she chances a glance at Rick, she's pleasantly surprised to see the smirk on his face, like he's won a game he didn't even know he was playing.

"How did you guys meet anyway?"

"He's my-"

"He helped us with a case about a month ago," Kate breaks in, keeping Jo from spilling the beans about this new development to Josh. She doesn't dare even suggest that she knew Rick in college. Josh is a smart guy, and she has no doubt that he would be able to connect the dots.

"Some sicko was copycatting murders in my books," Rick finally says, having been silent until now. He hands the glass and bottle of wine over to Kate, leveling a beaten look upon her. "It's late, and it sounds like you have some catching up to do, so I better get going." He walks toward the door, and Kate follows him. She's not about to let him leave without some reassurance. Not again.

"Rick." She closes the door behind them, but leaves it cracked.

"You have nothing to explain." He tried to keep walking, but she grabs him by the wrist, drawing him back to face her. "I'm not angry, beyond the fact that we were finally making some headway."

"But we're not-"

"Kate, honestly. I'm not mad." He smiles at her, and she sees how hard he's trying to convince her, even though she doesn't believe him for a second. "I'll call you in a couple days, okay?" She nods, and he steps in a little closer and lowers his voice. "Tell Jo goodnight and give her a kiss for me?"

"Of course."

He slips his hand out of her light hold and walks down the hallway, and she doesn't miss the way his head is bowed. So much for progress.

* * *

Kate sees him walking toward her desk a few days later, completely out of the blue. He hasn't made any effort to get in touch with her since the night Josh showed up at her place, despite his assurances that everything was fine between them. He appears in a good mood, though, so she's willing to run with it-until she sees the suspicious looks she gets from Ryan and Esposito.

"Castle, hey. This is a surprise." She tries to keep her voice light, doing her best not to sound like she has more of a familiarity with him than what the boys would expect. The last thing she needs right now is to have them snooping around her personal life more than they already do.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I would stop by and see if you were free for lunch," he says, his suit jacket folded over his arm as he sits down in the chair next to her desk. "But from the looks of it, you're not."

His eyes flash toward the murder board, and she follows his gaze, huffing out a breath at the truth of his statement. "Not really, no. We just got this case last week-a string of home invasions. They struck again last night."

"I thought you worked homicide cases."

"I do, which is why we got this case. The first two robberies were just that, but the first murder was committed just last week. And then came the one last night-nasty one, too. They shoved the woman in a wall safe and cut off her ring finger, _after_ they shot her at close range."

"Beckett, we've got Mitchell in the box," a uniform yells across the bullpen.

"Thanks," she yells back, before she turns to Rick. "Can you wait? I have to interrogate this guy first, but then I should have some time for lunch."

"Can I watch?" he asks excitedly.

"You are _not_ going in there with me." Kate points a finger at him as she walks by him, hoping that he'll listen to her.

* * *

Rick waits until after they've placed their order at Remy's before he says anything, mostly because he figures she's convinced he wants to talk about something completely different.

"That Mitchell guy is a real tool. Do you think he did it?"

"No, but he knows something. I just-" she starts but stops abruptly, once she realizes what he just admitted. "Which one of them let you in observation?"

"They both did, actually. But they had their own agenda."

"I don't doubt it," she tells him with a smirk as she swirls her straw around her shake. "How bad was it?"

"They're suspicious, but they think we're dating and not telling anyone. They have no idea what's really going on."

Kate is calm, totally bypassing the fact that he convinced Ryan and Esposito into letting him into the observation room in favor of getting his impression of how much they might know about her history with Castle.

"Esposito is probably the worst. Any time I even mention meeting someone other than my father outside of work, he wants to interrogate them and make sure the guy is suitable to be around Jo."

"Did he do that with good Dr. Davidson?"

He regrets asking the question when she sucks in a breath. Whatever the situation with this Josh guy is, she's definitely not comfortable discussing it. And part of him doesn't think that he has a right to even ask, but he waits her out, hoping that they had truly made some progress before they were interrupted the other night.

"I do my best not to talk to them about my personal life with them. So no, they didn't do that with Josh. They didn't know about him."

She doesn't elaborate any more than that, but he notes her use of the past tense. The more he thinks about the other night and the scene they created at her front door, he realizes that she wasn't exactly excited to see him.

"And me?" The question is selfish, he knows. But he's curious what she tells her co-workers about him. He might also be fishing for information.

"As far as they know, we met for the first time when you worked that case with us. However, their curiosity skyrockets every time you show up at the precinct."

"What, we can't be friends?" he asks, shaking a fry in her direction. "Maybe I'm doing research for a new novel-oh, you could be my muse!"

She smiles when the idea comes to him, one that he hasn't seen in many years. He doesn't know what the deal is with Josh, and she doesn't seem like she's desperate to clear the air about who this guy really is to her, but Rick can hardly complain when she's smiling at him like that. Whatever there used to be between them, and whatever there might be now, that smile gives him hope and tells him that he doesn't have the whole story.

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"I think it's the best idea I've had in a long time, actually. Those stolen property photos on your desk? I might even know someone we could show them to."

"Let me think about it," she tells him, which is almost as good as her saying yes.

* * *

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